


Give It All Away

by becausehiships



Category: Glee, klaine - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 136,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becausehiships/pseuds/becausehiships
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life must go on, even after unexpected events that change everything.  Give It All Away takes two boys and thrusts them to maturity, forcing them both into a journey that proves that if you truly love someone, set him free.  If he comes back, paving the pathway to forgiveness all the while, he is yours forever.  You can give it all away just to get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Welcome back to the land of my Kurt and Blaine!  This is the second part of _Take All That I Am_.  If you haven’t read that yet, do that first.  

If you have, read along.  This is my second piece of fanfiction that features an age-gap.  Kurt is eleven years Blaine’s senior and Blaine can still, sort of, be classified as a “bad boy.”

There are, as usual with the rest of my crazy stories, a lot of warnings that I want to make sure you know about.  This (at least in the beginning) is not the happiest of stories or situations for both our Blaine or Kurt.  You will see both of them with other characters in this story, but please know that Klaine is (ALWAYS) endgame.  

There’s a lot of cursing, infidelity or mentions of it (but Kurt and Blaine don’t cheat on each other), dark situations, speak of depression and suicide, anal penetration (this time, only on penises… not bananas), and a slew of other sexual mentions.  There’s a hint of bondage and a little bit of BDSM.  Use of vibrators and lots of dirty talk.  There may or may not be a threesome at some point with an original character.  

At the end of the day, there’s a lot of love and Kurt and Blaine wind up together.  I promise.  

Just enjoy the story and the hills and valleys they both have to take to find each other’s hearts again, yeah?  I don’t want to give away too much so that’s where I’ll leave you.  As always, if you have any specific questions or concerns, you know where to find me. 

Becausehiships on tumblr, in case you forgot.  

Oh hey, I really want to thank @CynicalGlee again for reading and coaching and cheering me through this one.  She is my English teacher and I don’t know what I would do without her, so go follow her incredible Twitter account.

Also, Christine.  She literally forced me to write when I was crying and screaming about hating it and she also screen-grabbed this one time I said I love editing in Facebook messenger.  I write until she cries and then I know it’s decent.  She’s my biggest fan and I, hers.  Thank you <3

Zinnia and Lynne – you guys are amazing friends, and Zinnia… my rock in the form of a beta.  You always felt what I needed you to feel in the words and thanks for not being a comma whore!  <3

ENJOY!

xxoo,

Nikkie

**xK &Bx**

A dark cloud of distraction stalks Blaine Anderson for two years as he mends into a man.  Just when he thinks his life can’t get any lonelier, he finds himself on the receiving end of the most terrible news ever:  someone else has proposed to Kurt Hummel.

It’s a detrimental situation to be in – the love of your life publicly professing his love to another.  There’s nothing he can do about it because he’s the one who let Kurt slip out of his fingers in the first place.  Kurt’s gone… he’s out of Blaine’s life.  

This would destroy Blaine if that damned cloud of distraction weren’t there to save him every single time he thought about it.

Meanwhile, Kurt’s stuck between a rock and a hard place clear across the country; he must settle down and preferably before he turns forty, but probably not with _him_.  The current.  The only option.

When Kurt is finally faced with exactly the question he had been waiting for – will you marry me? – the first person who comes to mind is not the man down on one knee.  He calls someone he hasn’t seen or heard from in ages and thus the sparks fly yet again, as they always did.  He seeks out Blaine to _fix_ him.

A journey back to each other has the ex-lovers gasping for air with each flashback and reminder of all the good (and bad) times.  They’re brought through the wringer not for the first time and certainly not for the last in their lives as they fight to survive the world together.  

Even subconsciously and from across the country, with different and multiple partners, it’s always been Kurt and Blaine against the world.  With very separate lives, Blaine has a support system in one person and Kurt is still just his _pretty boy_.

The hills, they climb.  Into the valleys, they fall.  Sudden close proximity and a life-altering revelation that has Kurt on his knees begging for mercy forces them into a trust-ridden relationship for the second time and now they must learn what it’s like to know and love the other as different, more mature individuals with lives that finally don’t revolve around each other.  If they find they can’t do this, it’s unlikely they’ll survive the aftermath of the second-most devastating breakup in the history of all breakups ever known.

Can they survive the rats nipping at their ankles?  Will Kurt ever stop resisting someone who’s entirely meant to be with him?  Read on, in this second installment to _Take All That I Am_ , and be whisked away into a world where nothing’s perfect and everything is hard and Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are still fighting to rise above it all.

**xK &Bx**

SHORT SYNOPSIS:

Life must go on, even after unexpected events that change everything.  _Give It All Away_ takes two boys and thrusts them to maturity, forcing them both into a journey that proves that if you truly love someone, set him free.  If he comes back, paving the pathway to forgiveness all the while, he is yours forever.  You can give it all away just to get him back.

 

..

 

**Chapter 1**

**Song used in this chapter:**   
**Great Big World Ft. Christina Aguilera – Say Something**

_July 2016_

“Kurt.  Sit down.”

“If I do, it’s over.  If I sit down, we’ll talk about this and how it’s just not working anymore and you’ll walk out the door and down the stairs and you’ll run away and you’ll be in California until further notice and I’ll never see you again and this will all have been for nothing.”  He’s pacing the length of the room, viciously rubbing at his forehead.  “Why the fuck is this happening to me?  Why didn’t you just let me fix you?”

“Pretty boy, please?”  Blaine’s eyes are following Kurt like he’s watching the U.S Open, live and in living color.  Kurt feels them on him, like Blaine’s eyes can singlehandedly burn his soul. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“I can’t… we can’t do the long distance, not when you didn’t even talk to me about this.  How would that even work?  Am I supposed to trust you three-thousand miles away when I can’t even trust that you’d come to me when we’re living under the same roof?”  He stops and locks eyes with the absolute love of his life, throws his hands up in the air, and cries out in despair.  “Fuck, Blaine!”  He has venom oozing out of his teeth.  “What have you done to us?”  
  
“Kurt.  Baby…”

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and sighing deeply.  “Just go.  If you can’t do New York anymore, just go.  You didn’t even… _talk_ to me.  I could have…” He trails off.  There are no words that are worth it without the other.

Blaine stands and tries to approach him.  He reaches out to graze Kurt’s folded arm, lying neatly across his chest.  “We can make this work.  New York is… it’s gonna kill me, Kurt.  I never said I wasn’t willing to maintain a long dis-”  
    
“I can’t have you in my life anymore if it’s going to be like this.  I don’t want-” Kurt looks at him for the last time and turns to go, pausing after taking three short steps; he’s hit a wall that determines his future.  The words taste like an infection he’ll never rid himself of.

“You don’t mean that.“

The silence is deafening.  

Finally, Kurt says, “A clean break would be the best.  Take care, okay?”  He ventures into the once-shared beautiful bedroom, glistening on top of Broadway, slamming the door to further vocalize his decision.

When he hears the front door slam right back, the sound out of his mouth is as though he’s being brutally murdered.  This is more than goodbye.  This is the end.

**xK &Bx**

The downpour of rainwater is poison on Blaine’s skin as he sprints to the subway then past it, straight onto the next stop and the next until he’s run nearly four miles with his forty-five-pound carry-on bag.  He has five hours to spare before his flight takes off at an airport that’s only a half-hour away, so he stays on foot until the island of Manhattan ends and he has the choice to either swim or cross the bridge to the airport.  He’s made it a point to say goodbye to no one:  Kurt, Santana, Rachel.  He assumes the girls will take Kurt’s side after this anyway, so what’s the point?

He hails the last vacant cab at the edge of Manhattan and expects to cry himself all the way to JFK, but he’s in denial.  There are no tears to be found.

He checks his phone ten times on the way to the airport.  At the haunting darkness of his screen and the lack of any missed notifications, he realizes now that he can’t breathe without Kurt.  He continues on his journey to California anyway because staying in New York would ruin him and he needs to be selfish when it comes to his sanity for once.  He knows that he’s meant to be with Kurt and it’s bound to work itself out.

It’s all Blaine’s fault, there’s no doubt in his mind.  His first year at Columbia revolved around only Kurt and not around making friends or study buddies like most freshmen are encouraged to do.  During this time, the gossiping started and seemed to get worse as the time went on.  He slowly became the hot topic of conversation:  Christian Anderson’s son who was beaten nearly half-to-death for most of his teenage life.  He was the sole reason why one of the most known lawyers that everyone in the Ivy League case-studied at some point in their career was rotting away in a federal prison.  Knowing that his father was one of the most intelligent and shamelessly clever lawyers of his time, Blaine tried to offer nothing at all about his home life, but he couldn’t be surprised when the relation finally came out.  Blaine’s peers and professors _are_ practicing lawyers and students; of course they can Google the shit out of anyone and anything they were remotely curious about.  

They weren’t _mean_ about it as they were subtle, and the pity only made it worse.  Terribly judgmental and still rather hurtful, it ate Blaine alive to the point where he felt he needed the walls again to get through his day.  He built them right back up, as he did when he first came out to his family.  He always felt the whispers behind him on his way to his next lecture, but they had no clue – _no fucking clue_ – about what life was like with his father, and how badly the repercussions bled into other aspects of his life, so they had no right to offer their opinion.  Even if most of it was an obvious inner monologue and glares directed only at him, Blaine could tell when he was being judged unfairly.  It eroded him until he couldn’t take it anymore.  He needed out and quick, if only for his own survival.  

It was after one comment from the living, breathing _Regina George_ of Columbia early on in the second semester of freshman year that Blaine became interested in the process of applying to other schools and how it would look on a transcript if he were to transfer.  

_“So, like, did your dad get you into Columbia as an apology or something?”_

Blaine skipped his last class that day and ran straight to a hot steam shower, allowing the scalding water to assault his skin for almost an hour as he broke down every shield he’d previously held up on campus.  Kurt found him burnt to a crisp and lying naked on the floor of the shower when he got home from work later in the evening.  It took the four days following, complete with laziness and crying and Chinese food, to calm him down and force out the reasoning behind Blaine’s growing depression.

From that point forward, Blaine never felt the same.  The spark of passion was gone and his walls had gone back up tenfold to more than just the people at Columbia, more indestructible than ever.  There was nothing anyone, Kurt included, could do to break them down this time contrary to firm efforts.

Throughout the sudden transformation, Kurt couldn’t seem to find a way to fix Blaine.  He tried to offer more dates; he brought home little surprises like flowers and chocolates and adorable stuffed animals from Hallmark just because.  Blaine was deemed “unfixable” and there wasn’t anything Kurt could have done to make it better.

Everything deflated flat as a rail with one sentence out of Blaine’s mouth.  “I got into UC Berkeley.”

And then life went to shit.

**xK &Bx**

_May 2018, two years later._

Kurt sneaks into the nearest Starbucks, his whole body damp and cold, and fishes a pen out of his bag.  He yanks a thick handful of napkins out of the canister on the last remaining empty table and starts to scribble nearly unclear words crooked on the first napkin.  Writing the letter that he’s outlined in his head a billion times, now finally having a good enough reason.  He slouches over and thinks hard.  He makes it a point for this to be the only letter, lacing in small messages to other people who need them.  Death was always his destiny.

_My Blaine,_

_Where are you when I need you the most?  I’m at the Starbucks on 70th Street, as though you’re going to run in here from the rain, pick me up and twirl me, bruise my lips and paint your name all over them, as you used to when you and I were a we.  You would say you were on your way home early to surprise me, but you saw me in here so you had to come interrupt.  I wouldn’t argue and we’d sip our coffee for the half block it took for us to get soaked again._

_It’s just started to rain.  The rain always reminds me of you because it was raining the day you left.  It’s been raining ever since, at least metaphorically.  That’s so cheesy, you’d make fun of me for saying that._

_You know, I would have followed you anywhere you told me to.  I wish I had said that in the moment; that could have changed everything.  You didn’t know that, though, and I’ve let you down.  I regret my time alone, my time without you, because I didn’t realize that home has never been New York, Blaine; that home was always you.  So fucking cliché, right?_

_I’m here and you’re there and I feel so irrelevant without you.  I’m alone and it’s my fault.  But I’m not alone, not really.  This person I’ve been dating (who will never be you) just proposed to me in Central Park.  I’m not even sure I like him. I wouldn’t be able to spend my life with someone who isn’t you, Blaine.  I can’t surrender._

_My first reaction shouldn’t have been to call you.  I told him I need time to think, time to collect my thoughts and figure out what I want.  Now that I’m sitting here, next door to our apartment… Upon running away from him, I know I won’t accept it under any circumstance; I’ve always known that about any proposal that may come my way from anyone who isn’t you.  I want to die because it wasn’t you on a single knee, asking me for forever, as it should have been and God Blaine, I feel like I’ve ruined my entire life by letting you go that day._

_What’s the point of breathing if it can’t be for you, with you?  I know we promised no goodbyes.  I’m sorry I have to say goodbye to you now._

_The fact of the matter is that I needed you to be here with me, to be anywhere with me, and I know I should have paid more attention to how you were feeling and not how terrible life would be anywhere but New York.  We fell into a rhythm separately while we were together, and it wound up pushing us apart.  My agenda here was to make up for the first time I lived here and that wasn’t fair to you at all.  You got lost in the shuffle when all I needed to do was be there.  It’s about time I let the city do what it’s always wanted to: chew me up and spit me out.  It’s swallowing me up again, I feel it, and you are not here to pull me back to the surface like you always were.  I’m drowning, Blaine, and you can’t be that fucking floating noodle thing I hold onto anymore.  I’m falling through this fucking black hole of a city that I can’t escape and I can’t survive it without the one person I’ve ever wanted next to me, so I guess I just… won’t._

_I’m planning to just do you all a favor and speed up the torture.  It’s the most selfish thing I ever thought to do, B, and I know what you’re going to think of me once I succeed, but it hurts less knowing that I won’t be here to hear your thoughts.  I know it’s going to devastate my parents; maybe it will devastate you.  I think I just needed you to know because I always thought we’d have a happy ending, and if there’s no happy ending, then I at least owe you this much._

_There was never supposed to be a happy ending for me.  I know that now.  The death that’s surrounded me just makes sense to me now, because my death is going to surround everyone else._

_I know you know that I still have nightmares about that night and I don’t want it to be your responsibility to take care of it anymore.  I don’t want you to ever forget me and the way I loved you.  I don’t want you to cry at the funeral.  I want you to be there for my parents.  Be there for Santana; she’s the best friend I could have ever had, outside of you.  This will be hard on her and my parents – this will be the second loved one they’ve had to say goodbye to._

_Please, bond with Rachel.  She’s gone through everything you are already and she can help you move on.  She and Finn were broken up when he died, and her strength now gives me faith that you will be fine.  You’ll find someone else, someone you will wonder how you ever lived without, if you haven’t already.  Be that person for someone else, Blaine.  Don’t ruin yourself over me.  You always were too affected by me.  Rachel will help you._

_I’m sorry, I wish we could have made our forever work, baby.  This is so much bigger than you, and I love you more than you know.  I don’t want you to blame yourself, but I do want you to know that part of it is because it’s not worth it without you.  My life was you and I am always yours regardless of whether or not I have a pulse.  I love you.  So much.  But I can’t do this anymore without you.  I just don’t know anything else anymore, B.  I love you._

_-  Kurt_

Death is something that can’t ever be reversible; Kurt knows this.  He knows that it’s a permanent fixture.  He is finally in touch with what he really wants for himself and so he decides to start a plan this week.  Although the timing of it all probably won’t take place until after he gets back from Ohio, he’ll work diligently to tie up the few loose ends he can think of off the top of his head.  It’ll be pills, he’s decided, and it won’t happen at home.  He’ll make a splash with this, if only for a showstopper at the very end.  He owes that much to himself.

_Say something, I’m giving up on you._   
_I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you._   
_Anywhere, I would’ve followed you._   
_Say something, I’m giving up on you._

He folds the napkin-letter three times until it’s a small rectangle and he shoves it into his messenger bag.  As he looks around the dark coffee shop, he realizes that this isn’t the place that holds all of the memories from the beginning of his relationship with Blaine, and for whatever reason, he cries harder until he’s a blubbering mess who’s kicked out by an angry assistant manager who says he’s disrupting the workflow of the environment.  

Wiping his eyes dry, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, he gazes into the third floor bay window that used to be theirs.  He stands there for a few minutes, arms folded and warm tears streaming down his face yet again.

He is pulled out of his daydream by a loud call of his name, a vibration he feels in his bones, and a franticly waving boy across the street.  He shakes his head in a way that could almost be mistaken for fondly as he watches the man’s next action.

Oliver’s standing on the other side of the street with a large bouquet he must have gotten at the bodega on the corner.  Kurt’s… person… dodges a few taxis wailing their horns at him and captures Kurt’s mouth, connecting the two men fiercely, all of the energy coming from only Oliver’s lips.  

“Jesus, Kurt!  I was so worried about you.  God, I’m so sorry.”  Oliver holds out the flowers to Kurt.  “Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”

Kurt keeps his hands in his pockets.  Kurt’s eyes feel wide and dry, almost like someone is currently gouging them with a fork.

Oliver looks at him intensely and continues.  “Just… take until after your vacation?  Do you want coffee?  Come on, you look exhausted.”  He goes to pull on the nook of Kurt’s elbow.

Kurt rolls his eyes in response.  It is most definitely not a vacation, but Kurt can’t really hold that against Oliver.  He simply doesn’t know Kurt down to his core, like Blaine used to.  Kurt makes it a point to keep himself closed off to everyone.  Everyone since Blaine.  “Don’t.  We’re not even together.  You’re just… we’re just fooling around.”

“Kurt…”

“I’ll call you when I’m back from Ohio.”  He escapes to the subway stairs, skipping two at a time until he’s standing in front of the turnstile, watching a train pass through the station.  He doesn’t intend on getting on it to venture home to Brooklyn; he’s simply hiding out from Oliver.  After ten minutes, he retreats back up the stairs and takes a seat in Columbus Square next to a homeless guy with hundreds of dollars worth of cans in a shopping cart.  The guy is talking to the pigeons rather loudly, telling them his life story.  

Kurt observes for a few moments; he’s trying to gather his own thoughts and talk himself out of what he knows will be very trying on both he and Blaine.  When the desire doesn’t go away, he takes a deep breath and dials the number.  He thumbs at the napkin in his pocket.  It’s been so long since they’ve spoken.  Blaine probably won’t even pick up.

He patiently waits for the call to connect to Blaine’s voicemail.

**xK &Bx**

He scrolls through his contact list of names, but he has no way of remembering their faces.  He hardly saves a number if only for the strict _don’t fuck a guy from the clubs twice_ rule he’s made for himself.  Throwing his phone down next to him as he grunts in frustration, Blaine repositions his body in a lump on his empty bed.

The breakup took more from Blaine than he’d ever care to admit and even two years later, he’s still sincerely affected by such a terrible loss and the fact that Kurt didn’t follow after he told him to leave that day, although Blaine can admit that he really didn’t give Kurt the opportunity.

He’s on somewhat of a post-relationship sex-prowl, in dire need to find the feeling Kurt gave him again, at least sexually.  Nearly daily, he joins his buddies down at the gay bars and clubs, taking home a new piece of ass one hundred percent of the time.  He feels guilty after the fact, but he swears it’s pleasurable in the moment.

He misses Kurt; he’s not sure why they left each other when they were previously so perfect, besides the simple fact that New York was cursed.  Attending Berkeley and changing his major to a completely opposite career-path than that of his father is something that Blaine needed for his own sanity and no one could possibly argue with that, as long as it all works out for the both of them, happily, separately, in the end.  If it can’t be him, he wants someone who truly deserves everything Kurt is.  He hopes Kurt is happy.  This has not been confirmed, though, because Burt, Carole, Santana, _and_ Rachel all refuse to let him into the details of Kurt’s life.  

Blaine shuffles back into his messy bedroom and finds Kurt’s old hoodie he stole years ago and plops down on the bed.  He reaches for his phone as it buzzes and stares at the blinking indication of the caller ID telling him it’s an “Unknown Number”.  Blaine holds the phone in the palm of his hand and watches the call go to voicemail.  He continues to stare, willing for it to come to life once again.  It does seconds later and the butterflies in his stomach flutter out of control.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank God, Blaine.  _You answered_.”

_Kurt_.  The blood in Blaine’s veins runs ice cold.  There’s something wrong.  They hadn’t talked on the phone since… well, he can’t remember the last time they heard each other’s voice.

“Kurt?  Are you okay?”

“B, he proposed.”

“Ummmm, who?”

“I just wanted it to be you standing there, Blaine.  That was my first fucking thought, that’s so fucked up.  Jesus!”

“You’re… Jesus, Kurt.  You’re _engaged_?  What the hell are you-”

“Blaine, no.  Fuck, no.  I mean, I didn’t tell him anything, I just ran.  But no.  Of course I’m not.  Fuck, this was a mistake.  I’ve been fucking up for like, my entire life, shit, and New York is dumb and uninspiring and so fucking pointless without you.  I’m getting too old for this and I just… fuck!  You’d think I’d get a goddamned handle on it by now.  Dammit.”

Blaine listens and takes a deep breath.  He can do this; he has to do this, if only to make it up to Kurt for leaving him alone two years ago.  “No, no.  Come on, we promised we’d always be there for each other, no matter what.  Remember?  Take me… take me through it but spare the details?”  He laughs cowardly.  He knows that Kurt will know it’s to cover up his true feelings.  He sighs.  “Kurt?”

Kurt whispers; it’s barely audible.  “I miss you.”

“God, pretty.”

**xK &Bx**

Blaine remembers two years ago as if it were yesterday.

Four days after Blaine moved out west, he made the call.  He needed to make this better; he only wanted Kurt.  The number has been disconnected.  He immediately called Santana, who tells him to fuck off until she can get Kurt off the bathroom floor.  She’ll call him when Kurt wants to talk.  She never called; not about Kurt, anyway.

Four days after Blaine selfishly left Kurt, he finds himself signing a lease for an adorable two-bedroom house straight out of _Full House_.  It’s nearest the Castro District, so he naturally whisks himself away to the closest gay bar the very first night.  Apparently, he is especially desirable to the men in San Francisco, so he starts to have some fun.  He doesn’t deal with the issues of the tremendous loss in his love or his confidence at this time; he just starts to notch his bedpost, one gorgeous California boy at a time.  

He gets an STD that night.  It’s curable, yes… but a wake-up-call, nonetheless.

Hung over the next morning, day five without Kurt, he kicks the random boy out of his bed, officially vowing for these boys to never spend the night again.  He slams the door in the slut’s face and opts to unpack the little that he brought with him.  He unwraps the single framed photo he has of him and Kurt from his graduation day and puts it on the kitchen counter. He tapes the engagement ring he’d been carrying around to the backside of the frame with some leftover packing tape.  There, it remains for the day he might need it again.  He hopes he’ll need it sooner than later.

Blaine starts to make a few friends and treads carefully into this new territory of interacting with complete strangers.  There are a few people at school and he even exchanges numbers platonically with a couple he meets at the Hanson concert he goes to one night by himself.

**xK &Bx**

Another buzz relieves him from his own head, from the recollection of his past few years barely surviving.

_Kurt:  I’m sorry for freaking out on you.  It was just instinct to call you in a time like that.  I’m sorry you had to deal with that._   
**_Blaine:  Someone once told me to stop be so self-deprecating and I’m passing the advice onto you.  When is graduation this year?_ **   
_Kurt:  Mmmm, next next Saturday.  You’re… invited._   
_Kurt: If you want._   
_Kurt: It’d be nice to see you._   
**_Blaine:  This is the most we’ve texted in two years, pretty._ **   
_Kurt:  Doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to._   
_Kurt:  Shit, B._   
**_Blaine:  You can be honest with me, Kurt._ **   
**_Blaine:  I still love you._ **

Kurt’s breath catches at the words.  He decides it’s not time to respond in the way he wants to, because then all of this struggle would have been unnecessary all along.  He needs to resist this.

He logs onto his computer and changes the flight to leave in six hours instead of in six days, and he cancels his return flight.

**_Blaine:  Shit.  Sorry.  I mean, not that I do…love you… but just that I’m still saying it.  To you._ **   
_Kurt:  I’ll be in Ohio tonight._   
**_Blaine:  Noted._ **   
**_Blaine:  See you in the morning, then._ **

Resistance is not possible when it comes to Blaine Anderson.

_Kurt: Love you too, B. ****_  
_Kurt:  Always saving me._   
**_Blaine:  Nope, that was always you._ **

Kurt throws his phone down on the bed and allows himself to squeal just this once. ****


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Song used in this chapter:  The Wreckers - Tennessee**

Blaine stands in line, patiently awaiting the security guard to reach the wrapped-around, treacherous line by screaming “ _next_!” and groping every part of him so he can be deemed unsuspicious enough to fly on an airplane safely to Ohio.  He had jumped at the first opportunity of mending Kurt, buying a first class ticket on the next flight to Columbus without a second thought, and now that he thinks about it, it’s so clear that he’s just desperate for Kurt to love him again as he did before and that’s ridiculous for Blaine to still wish for that, two years after _he_ walked out on Kurt.  

This is crazy.  There’s no reason for Blaine to run to Kurt’s side, and over a _marriage proposal_ gone wrong (or right?) with another man or for the mourning of a brother Blaine’s never met.  They’re not together anymore; they will never be together again especially with Kurt moving on enough to put himself in the position to be proposed to, so Blaine is officially off the hook in the “saving Kurt from himself” department.  He has absolutely no obligation to be there for him, especially when he’s the one who willingly walked out of Kurt’s life in the first place. He doesn’t want to, not really, not when someone else entirely is proposing to him and promising him forever the way that he should have when they first moved to New York.  Not when someone else has a better shot of being Kurt’s husband than Blaine ever would.

Kurt’s not his anymore; he has no right to still want him.  Blaine left Kurt, so Kurt’s heart may have been broken but it’s because of him and that’s why there’s no need to comfort him.  Besides, Kurt has moved on.  

As much as Blaine willingly left, Kurt could have chased after him.  They clearly gave each other up years ago and now he must mend his own heart and not give a damn about Kurt Hummel.

Reality is something strange.  Instinct is even weirder.  Blaine huffs and slouches into his shoulders, stopping dead in a moving line, picking up the carry-on bag at his feet and pushing backward through the queue of travelers waiting to be groped and onward to their final destinations.

When he escapes the line mostly unharmed, he takes off in a run straight to baggage claim, directly out into the taxi line and gives the next available his home address.  He sits back in the cab, watching the airport disappear through the window and sighs a heavy breath of relief. He needs to protect himself.  He’s all he has.  

**xK &Bx**

Kurt wakes up late.  He has exactly ninety minutes to get ready and dressed, to the airport a half hour away, through security, and onto the plane.  There is no way he is going to make it, but he’s determined to try.  He panics, miraculously pulling up to JFK with precisely twenty minutes to spare.  He is greeted to an empty line at security (never happens) and he actually has a few minutes to get something mediocre at the Starbucks in his terminal.  He wants to think it might have something to do with fate, but that idea is quickly pushed out of his head because the “fate” he’d be experiencing right now would only have to do with the fact that Blaine is currently on a plane coming from the complete opposite side of the country just to support Kurt in a difficult time and that idea is otherworldly to him.  He sits, sipping his somewhat-burnt brew, and gets up to make it a little bit lighter and a little bit sweeter.  He never makes it to the condiment counter because there is a sight haunting him directly in his path that will never leave him for all the worst reasons.  He stops dead in the crowd of people, watching the pair as if he could be watching his very own life, a fictional scene from a movie that will never, ever happen, at least not with him as a main character.

Standing dangerously close to Kurt is a giggling little girl no more than three years old, holding a Starbucks cup that is simply too big for her.  She’s waddling like a tiny drunk person behind a tall figure that can only be her father _and_ Blaine Anderson’s obviously long lost twin.  They are both complete with curly, black hair and sparkling green eyes, miniature kaleidoscopes dancing to every angle of the airport around them identically.  Her father turns to kneel down to her, brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes and kisses the tip of her nose.  He whispers something in her ear and she laughs her adorable giggle that never really stops as she tries to balance the huge Starbucks cup in both of her hands _and_ walk at the same time.

The little girl’s other father, complete opposite of this version of Blaine but also complete opposite of real-life Kurt somehow, stands up by the row of seats he’s reserved, guarding the pile of luggage at his feet while his family had gone on a coffee run and waves frantically to his daughter.

In this moment, Kurt can only see him and Blaine and his daughter – _their daughter_ – traveling home to Lima, visiting Grammy and Grandpop, leaving their perfect New York life for a while.  This sight of strangers triggers something delicate inside of him and he swallows the lump in his throat.

Kurt realizes he immediately thinks of Blaine, not Oliver.

Kurt loses it, inhaling air harshly and as if he can’t get enough into his weak lungs.  He’s shaking, on the verge of a serious panic attack.  He fitfully escapes from the terminal faster than he knew was possible and he’s curled in the fetal position on his bed before he can even think about what he’s doing, what he’s throwing away, what it will mean when he doesn’t show up to greet Blaine at the airport in Columbus.

He sobs, into his pillow, all of the tears he’s refused to cry over Blaine in the past years of his life without him.  He cries for yet another loss, yet another someone he has to let go of, another _again_.  Like his mother, like Finn, Kurt vows to always remember Blaine’s soul and the happy times they had together.  He has to write him off.  He has to think of Blaine as dead.  Time heals all wounds; why isn’t time healing this one?

**xK &Bx**

Blaine builds the foldable walls and he retracts as needed.  He doesn’t trust easily but he’s trying to get there with the friends he’s made over the past two years.  Any friends he’s made in San Francisco are held at the end of a leash, as he needs to concentrate hard on his schoolwork and ruthlessly fucking any man that would willingly walk out of his apartment directly following an orgasm.  There are days that seem unworthy, like there is no sense in socializing, like no one is worth his time anymore but he quickly pushes that thought away every time for the sake of his libido and to forget about Kurt for just a few more minutes.

As far as staying in touch with the family, he feels it’s awkward most of the time.  He occasionally speaks on the phone to Burt and Carole and even Cooper down in Los Angeles although he’s sure Coop talks to Kurt more than he talks to him. Since Blaine left Kurt alone, high and dry, he’s pulled back from everyone who cares about the both of them.  He wants Kurt to have a happy life and is willing to sacrifice his relationships to give him that.  He’d do anything for Kurt except, apparently, live in New York City.

When he doesn’t show in Lima, Burt is the first to notice.  They haven’t seen each other in person for nearly a year, but this doesn’t ever stop Burt from being the consistent father figure he must know Blaine needs.  Blaine answers on the second ring, sniffling and trying to hide the fact that he’s been uncontrollably sobbing for hours.

“Hey.”

“Hey kiddo.  Where are you?  Everything okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Really?  Because I haven’t heard from you since the infamous ‘ _not coming’_ text you sent when you were supposed to be on a plane.  Figured I’d let you have some time to yourself, but now I need an explanation.  We miss you, you know.”

“Yeah, I just… this is so crazy, Burt.”

“He did the same thing.”

Blaine lets go of all the air in his lungs.  He’s not sure why there’s another tear escaping or why he’s shivering.  He no longer questions the unexplainable reactions his body has to the mention of _Kurt_ , even if no one seems to say his name to him anymore.  He’s nervous, as crushed as he was two years ago when he received loud beeping in his ear from the operator, notifying him that the subscriber has changed his number.  He’s as anxious as he’s been since Kurt first texted him again, suddenly attached to his phone for any purpose having to do with him.  He’s scared because he finally feels like things could be taking a turn for the better and then he goes and fucks everything up.  

“What?  He’s not in Lima?”

“He’s still in New York.  Flying in for Finn’s thing in a few days.”

“I miss him.”

“I know you do, kid.  Maybe… do you think it’s time to move on?”

“I don’t know how to do that.  Listen, I have a study group I need to get ready for.  I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Blaine, your semester got out three weeks-”

Blaine hangs up, immediately navigating to Kurt’s contact information.  He wants to delete it so bad, move on as Burt so eloquently stated.  Like the magnet is only connected to the thing it’s attracted to the most, his fingers are typing out a message instead of swiping the delete button.

**_Blaine:  I’m such a douchebag._ **   
_Kurt:  Don’t._   
_Kurt:  I’m not there either, but I will be.  I can’t see you, though.  Stay where you are._   
_Kurt:  Please._   
**_Blaine:  Kurt…_ **   
_Kurt:  I’m so sorry.  There’s no other way._   
_Kurt:  Take care of yourself, okay?_

**xK &Bx**

_June_

The Class of 2018 graduates.  All of Finn’s friends come and go; there are tears and annual reunion dinners.  

Kurt has thought out the whole suicide plan, and he’s decided to put it on hold for now.  The hope in Blaine’s text a few weeks ago gave him the motivation he needed to carry on and be okay and although he’s the one pushing Blaine away this time, the fact that he answered the phone call and didn’t hang up immediately after realizing it was Kurt calling about a proposal gives him enough hope to stick it out and try to live without him some more.

He visits with Julie a few times during his time in Lima, energetically helping out in any way he can at the coffee shop.   He confides in her that he has officially started the process to open a second store back in New York after coming to a realization that although his calling was something else entirely only a few years ago, he really loves the business of coffee and thought it would be beneficial to expand the business a bit.  As expected, Julie is beyond enthusiastic about the new store and even slips in that maybe they could talk further about expanding even more.  She may have a few ideas for their own brew.  

He returns home after saying _goodbye for now_ to Julie and the two new kids they hired.  Now that he’s decided to stick around as a living member of society, at least for longer than originally planned, he’s been weighing out a detailed list of why he should and why he shouldn’t marry Oliver.  He opens his laptop to read through it and concentrate on the decision again.  He stares at both sides of the list, both the pros and cons columns smoking and flaming with fire in the shape of Blaine’s name.  

He slams the laptop down and huffs through his frustrations.  How is he supposed to decide what to do when he can’t stop thinking about Blaine moping around at California at the thought of Kurt with someone else.  If he’s even doing that at all.  Which he’s probably not.

Stumbling down the stairs in the most distracted manner Kurt Hummel has ever possessed, he bumps his hipbone directly into the banister at the bottom of the stairs.  Knowing that he is both beyond distracted and that the run-in with the staircase is clearly going to leave a bruise on his hip the shape of Africa, he rubs at it and winces with pain.  Mumbling curse words under his breath, he pads into the kitchen where his father is standing haphazardly with the refrigerator door propped open with his elbow.

Kurt stares at him fondly for a moment and clears his throat.

“Don’t even think about that old bowl of spaghetti in there that looks like it might be growing fuzz, Dad.”

Burt groans as a response and slams the door closed before turning to his son.  “Let’s go out to eat.  Breadstix?”

“Only if you promise we get salads.  Come on, I’ll drive.”

They situate in the car, fully prepared for a serious father-son conversation.  Both can feel it deep in their bones.  It’ll end well – _it always ends well_ – but getting it to be manageable will require some substance and fighting the good fight.  

“So.  I’m going to say yes.  I’m going to marry Oliver.”

“Who the _fuck_ is Oliver?”

“He’s umm, he’s a British stockbroker’s son whom I have been dating for the past four months or so and he wants me to marry him.  He asked me in Central Park right before I came home and… I think he could potentially be the one for me.  He’s thirty-four, lives in the Village, works on Wall Street-”

“Kurt.  No.”

“You married Mom after a few months.  You just knew, right?”

“Yes.  I knew.  You’re settling.  Kurt.”  His father’s voice cracks on the delivery of his name and Kurt just knows that he won’t be able to get any straight opinion from anyone in his life.  

“Dad.”  He sighs, drumming a rhythm out on the steering wheel at the red light.  “This has nothing to do with Blaine.”

“The fact that he is who you automatically thought of when I said you’re settling for someone else shows me that this has everything to do with Blaine.  I know he just came back into your life after so long.  I think you’re panicking so you don’t run right back to him like you want to.”

There goes that unbiased opinion.  “Just because he stayed in touch with you after that whole mess does not mean we should be back together, Dad!  You don’t understand.  He left when he promised he wouldn’t and he ruined me completely.  I just… don’t you want better than that for me?”

“Kurt, I want the best for you, and frankly I think that’s Blaine.  You have to understand that people, even Blaine, are not perfect and he made a mistake and he’s been paying for it in the worst way for two years now by not being able to get you back, let alone keep in touch.  Now you’re going to marry someone else?”

“He never tried to get me back.  I changed my number.”  Kurt allows a single tear that he wipes away madly.  “I wanted to be over him so desperately, but now I realize that I never gave him the chance to fix it.”

“You don’t have to get over him, Kurt!”  Burt sighs and rubs his fingers together.  Kurt watches at the red light.  “You know I didn’t even notice that you were with anyone new.  Remember that day years ago when you came to dinner right after you met Blaine?  I could tell something in you changed, even then.  This Oliver guy hasn’t made you come out of the depressed shell you’ve been in since Blaine, which tells me he’s not worth it.  Why haven’t you spoken about this guy before?”

“I don’t know.”  Kurt’s shoulders sink into themselves; he’s not winning this one.  Not when it’s anyone up against Blaine.  He doesn’t care what anyone says, even himself.  

“I’m not saying you should marry your ex out of the blue, kiddo.  I’m just making sure that you know that as soon as you say yes to this Oliver kid, or anyone else, you are shutting out every other opportunity that is currently available with the one person you’ve ever loved in that way.  Right?”

“Maybe Oliver is the one I’m supposed to be with.”

“No, Kurt.  Oliver is not the person you’re supposed to be with.”  Burt sighs.  “My opinion doesn’t matter.  Just promise me you’ll think about any other… people you might be throwing away by saying yes to this kid your father hasn’t even met.  You can’t say nevermind later on and run back to Blaine once you realize you’ve made an awful mistake.”

“Okay.  Whatever.  I knew you’d take his side.”  Kurt pulls into a parking spot close to the door at Breadstix.  Several memories come flooding back, all clearly involving Blaine.  It seems like he can go nowhere within Lima city limits and not be reminded of all the good and bad times they shared here.  This is where Kurt brought Blaine for lunch on his birthday, the very first day they were officially together.  This is where they got their pizza every time they came back from the hospital for all of Kurt’s check-ins after the attack.  This was the meal, although take-out, they were eating together when Kurt first told Blaine that he loved him.  The restaurant is a monumental part of what used to be their relationship, and he’ll be damned if he’s ready to give that up just yet.  When he allows a few more tears to fall as he holds the door open for his father, he doesn’t try to hide it; Burt Hummel notices everything. 

“I’m not taking his side, bud.  He’s just as miserable as you are though, and that tells me that you’re both resisting each other.  It’s not fair to either of you.  You know I consider him my son as much as you are.  I want you both to be happy.”

“Okay, Dad.  Sorry I brought it up.  I clearly have to think about everything a little bit more.  I’ll let you know what I decide.”

**xK &Bx**

The rest of dinner and the following morning in the car to the airport is tense to say the least.  Burt knows how obviously his son wears his heart on his sleeve and he knows when he’s made a decision.  He’s settling, there’s no doubt about it, but he’s stubborn enough (just like his mom) to not listen to anyone else about it.  

Father and son adhere to a teary goodbye, a see you soon, and a kiss on the cheek with a promise to return for the holidays.  Kurt will call Burt when he lands and then his busy life will take him over again and Burt will fight off his loneliness with help from Carole and keeping up the tire shop and even checking in on Julie at the Lima Bean a few times a month, all under the teasing pretense of checking to make sure she’s doing it all correctly.  This is his fatherly duty and his commitment to his son.  

He watches Kurt’s back as he waltzes into the airport and until he can’t be seen any longer.  He pulls away, beginning the process of circling around until he’s following the “Exit” signs of the airport.  He presses and holds the “B” key to dial the speed dial saved under the letter.

“Burt?  I was just about to call you.”  There is noise in the background and Burt thinks that maybe Blaine is out of breath.  “Hey, hold on.”  The background noise is cut off and Blaine clears his throat.  “Hey.”

_Maybe I was much too selfish_   
_But baby, you’re still on my mind_   
_Now I’m grown and all alone_   
_And wishing I was with you tonight_

“Hey son, listen-”

“Can you pick me up?  I’m at the Columbus airport.  Carole called me last night and she told me he…” He gasps, trying to get his breathing under control before a sob has the chance to escape, “she told me he was still here and so now I’m here and I’m gonna get him back, Burt.  I have to.”

Burt nearly crashes the car into the teenagers driving next to him, half-heartedly trying to navigate their way out of an airport they had clearly never been to before.  “I’ll be there in about five minutes.  Let me just circle back around.  What terminal?”

“Uhhh, why are you here already?”

“Dropping off someone.”

“Wait, what?  Burt… what flight is he on?”

“Let him go, Blaine.  Visit with us tonight and give him time to get settled in.  We’ll figure out what to do next, I promise.”

“But if he’s here now…” Blaine trails off.  

“Blaine.  We need to talk before you see him for the first time in two years.  Do not go looking for him, I’m circling back around now.”

“Yeah, okay.  Call me back when you’re outside Terminal B.  You realize I’m chasing your son across the country, right?”

“And I love you for it.”

**xK &Bx**

Blaine storms out of the bathroom with his luggage trailing behind him.  He frantically runs to the arrivals/departures board and scans for any flight leaving for New York in the next few hours.  There’s only one so he practices his stealthiest moves by heading over to gate eight as smoothly as he possibly could handle.

He spots him, his beautiful Kurt with perfectly golden hair and sad eyes downcast seemingly picking out music for the next four minutes of his life.  He digs his headphones out of his pocket and connects them, plugging them into his ears and heart.  

He’s even more beautiful than Blaine remembers.

Blaine watches him and can’t help himself when he starts typing out a quick message.  He needs to see Kurt’s reaction and what better way to do this without him knowing he’s being watched in the first place.  

**_Blaine:  Hey, babe.  I hope you’re having a good day.  Wish I was with you in Ohio.  Everything went ok?_ **

He watches as Kurt clearly feels the vibration then stares at the text notification before pointing to it.  A faint smile stretches across Kurt’s lips and Blaine knows that there is finally some hope into what he’s doing here.  

_Kurt:  I’m sorry I said you shouldn’t have been.  I’m just sorry._   
**_Blaine:  Me too.  I’m going to fix everything, you watch.  Don’t lose any hope in me, yet._ **   
**_Blaine:  I know it took longer than you might have expected, but let me just iron out the wrinkles or whatever that stupid saying is.  Okay?_ **   
_Kurt:  Whatever you say, Anderson._

Blaine watches the dazzling smile Kurt presents to his phone before pocketing it.  With feet like lead, he walks away from Kurt to meet Burt at the curb.  

**xK &Bx**

Blaine watches as Burt pulls to the curb to meet him from his position crouched down on the ground sucking in a cigarette.  He throws it down and stomps on it, opening the door and smiling at the closest thing he’ll ever have to a father.  

After the obligatory fluff talk of how are you and how was your flight, Burt lays it on him.  He explains the argument he and Kurt had at lunch, and how he’s actually considering spending his life with Oliver, although Kurt swears up and down that he’s not settling for second best.  

Shell shocked and pale, Blaine deflates in front of Burt for upwards of a minute before saying the words that he needs to release, if only for a sense of confirmation.

“He’s going home to say yes to Oliver?  That can’t be, he looked-”

“I told you not to go look for him.”

“I creepily watched for his reaction while I texted him.”  There’s a beat.  “I can’t believe I just admitted that to you.”

 Burt looks at him and laughs a full chuckle, committing his shoulders to the movement.  

Blaine continues with a heavy sigh.  “He called me right when he ran away when the dude proposed.  Told me everything in kind of a panic.  I don’t think he was consciously calling me, to be honest.  It’s gonna be too fucking late!”

Burt nods, wringing his sweaty hands with one another.  “You really want him back?”

“I don’t know.  I mean, if he wants me.  But if this is the man who can make him happier than I could… then I’m going to let him go.  It’s been two years; I think I’m too late.”

“How’d he look when you were texting him?”

“Like I should still try.  Like he was egging me on to fight for him.”

“Shit.  You’re in as much love with him as you were when you were together.  You’ll never not love him.”  Burt whirls into the driveway with a screech inches before he plows through the garage, clearly distracted.

Blaine looks at Kurt’s dad and nods.  He hops out of the car and throws his small carry-on over his shoulder, waiting for Burt so they can walk inside together.  The pat Burt gives Blaine on his back doesn’t go unnoticed.  It’s welcomed with a smile and a small shrug.  It’s an unspoken word of promise to make Kurt happy again.

They walk up toward the house but Carole pulls the door open like a child waiting for Santa before they’re even to the stairs.

Carole is so surprised to see her Blaine, she’s squealing in delight.  They catch up a bit as they always do, but by the time he’s ready to turn around and follow Kurt to New York, there are no flights for another sixteen hours.  It would kill him to wait, so Blaine climbs into the Navigator and promises a safe return in a few days.

Blaine drives all night, hopefully straight into the arms of his Kurt for the rest of their lives, full to the max with love in their hearts.

**xK &Bx**

The pounding on the door coincides with the pulse taking residence in his head.  He sits up slowly, trying to remember how he arrived snuggled and warm in his bed, rain molesting his window like summer hail in Oklahoma.

He shuffles to the door and pulls it open, sleep still in his eyes.  His hair is thrown to most angles with one piece being too long and capturing his eyeball with every blink.  His naked chest shows off the still-boyish figure, the perfection of the thickness of his shoulders to the hourglass shape of his waist and the bulge where his hips lie high on his pelvis.  

The noise out of his mouth at the realization that a soaked-to-the-bone _Blaine Anderson_ is standing in front of him can most definitely be classified as a squeak, an inhuman and birdlike sound, high-pitched in all its feminine glory.  

They haven’t been face to face since Kurt kicked him out of his life, seemingly saying “goodbye” forever, and frankly, the sight of Blaine makes Kurt feel like his heart is imploding right there in his chest.

Time stills to an abrupt halt, souls dancing around each other aimlessly, a magnet being reenergized.  Their heartbeats synchronize to a fast-paced rhythm they used to be familiar with and the piece of thread ties itself back together again at each end, suffocation of a slipknot around each body.  It’s been a long time since they’ve stood in front of each other.

“Blaine!  What the hell are you doing here?  It’s like four in the morning!”  His eyes are thrown wide, shocked stiff into the wood beneath his feet.

“What I should have done years ago.”  Blaine drops his bag right there in the hallway and strikes one giant step to Kurt.  “I heard you’re saying yes to lover boy.”

“Now is really not the time-” Kurt rubs his eyes.

“Don’t write me off, Kurt.”  Blaine captures Kurt’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulls slightly, an invitation of a kiss literally at the tip of his tongue.  “Do not marry him, Kurt.  Please, don’t marry him.”

Kurt succumbs to all of his fear in this moment and becomes the cheater they warn you about.  He kisses back, pouring all of his love into Blaine’s mouth and breaks it seriously too soon.

Kurt gives him a tiny smile but backs away, contradicting his heart and his head.  “Come inside.  You’re freezing.”

Blaine looks at him and nods, but can’t feel his legs enough to move.

“Wait, what you should have done years ago?  What does that even mean?”

“It means, pretty boy, that I’m here and I’m fucking fighting for you because I need you to really think about this Oliver guy before you say you’re going to marry him.  You want to spend the rest of your life with him?”

“You’re drenched, B.  Come in, sit down.  I’ll find you something dry to wear.”  Kurt takes Blaine’s suitcase and rolls it into his apartment.  He turns back to Blaine, still standing in the doorway.

“I don’t have a good feeling about him, Kurt.  I know this is the first time we’ve seen each other in a really fucking long time and all but… fuck!”

“Blaine… use your words.”  Kurt rolls his eyes fondly and smiles.

“Does this mean we’re really over, when you say yes to him?”  

“I don’t think I’m-”

“I just feel like you’re totally over me, and I guess you have every right to be, it’s been forever since we’ve been together and… and just so you know… I didn’t go to Lima when you asked me to for Finn’s memorial because I was terrified of seeing you and there being no electricity.  Or Rachel hating me for showing up.  Things have been so awkward since you called and like, it’s been non-existent between us for so long, I was so scared you moved on; I was so scared of you just being another guy to me, but I should have realized that you’re never gonna be anything less than the love of my life, Kurt.”

“Blaine.”  Kurt tilts his head, his heart on his sleeve shattered completely down his arm, sharp shards of organ sticking through the veins on the back of his hand.  “Come inside.”

As they dance awkwardly through the kitchen and behind the curtain across the loft and into Kurt’s “room,” Blaine has a sneaky suspicion that he’s going to puke all over the place any minute.  Blaine follows his ex-lover sheepishly, not quite feeling like he even belongs in his life anymore, and so nervous that he’ll get the confirmation.  He watches Kurt bend to retrieve some pajama bottoms, placing them on the bed before he turns back to Blaine.  

Blaine’s eye catches a picture framed on Kurt’s nightstand of Kurt looking more beautiful than ever with a skittish man he’s never seen before.  It must be _him_.  He picks up the photo and stares.

Kurt comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder, leaving it there through the question.  “It’s been… two years.  It’s really nice to see you.  How are you?”

“You look… radiant in this picture.  Happy.”

“Quite the contrary.  Santana had just been yelling at me about my poor decision-making skills for men who apparently fall all over me at the drop of a dime.  I was really pissed off and distant in that picture.”

Blaine turns and shrugs, framed photo still in hand.  “Your dad told me you’re actually considering this whole engagement now.”

“I talked to my dad about a decision I was considering, yes.”

“I’m here to kindly drill it into your head that this isn’t right.  What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought you thought it was wrong it wasn’t me, Kurt.  I thought that all you wanted it to be was me in front of you that day in the park?  In the park, Kurt? That’s ours, pretty.  If you were going to say yes all along to him, why did you make him wait until after your triphome?What about us, _Kurt_?”  Blaine huffs.  He’s on a tangent that he can’t control, voice raising with every word spewing out into the open.  “Do you know that I have a ring?  Your finger is supposed to wear _my_ ring, Kurt.  It’s always been for you.  It’s taped behind a picture of us on my graduation day.”  It’s really an insanely unfair situation to throw that information in, but it appears that Blaine is pulling out all the stops to try to stop Kurt from thinking he needs to do this, to accept another man’s proposal.  “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, Blaine.  You sure do talk a hell of a lot more since we last saw each other.”

Blaine doesn’t validate Kurt’s snarky remark with a response.  Instead, he continues.  “I’m so sorry I broke your heart two years ago by stomping out of your life like a child.  But you can’t just come back into mine and tell me that you miss me, whispering it like the fucking gospel, and then I hear you’re saying yes to him.  You can’t just flip my entire world upside down like that, Kurt.”

“Flip your world upside down like that.  Like the time when I found out you were moving a day and a half before you actually did?”

“I’m sorry, okay?  I fucked up so bad and I’m sorry, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.  You know how much I hate New York.  It’s in your best interest to forgive me, baby.”  He steps forward toward Kurt again, but stops himself when Kurt allows a tear to fall and puts his fist to his mouth, probably to silence a sob.  Blaine sighs.

Kurt takes a deep breath and looks far away, maybe into another galaxy.  He speaks barely above a whisper, his voice getting louder as the speech goes on.  “Remember how you broke my heart and how, in two years, it has never mended and now when I try to find love again, of which I deserve and I finally fucking believe that, I can’t because you suddenly ask me _what about us_?  I thought I did something wrong to you, B.  I thought I let you down and that’s why you left.  I still don’t really know what happened.  I will never be able to breathe properly again because there will always be a void of exactly you in every single one of my nightmares.  Nightmares that include your father too, who left me for dead because I knew you, because I love you?  You don’t know heartbreak until you witnessed me a year and three-hundred something days ago.  So screw you and your ring.  You should have given it to me when you first bought it instead of ruining my entire life!”  He’s flailing his arms around his body as Blaine stands frozen in front of him, shirtless from peeling off his soaking clothes.  The wet jeans hang low on his hips, his jaw set open.  

Grinding his teeth, Blaine opens his mouth again to spew venom.  Instead, he breaks down, hiding the sobs the best he can.  Everything he’s lost is standing right there in front of him, in Kurt.  With a scowl on his beautiful lips and a hole in his heart that Blaine stabbed through himself, Kurt stands in front of Blaine as a reminder of what he doesn’t have.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.  Me too.”  Each word out of Kurt’s mouth comes with spit; he can’t stop the spewing mess this conversation has become.  

“Shut up, Kurt!  Would you let me finish a fucking thought?” 

“Mmmm, why should I?  You still don’t care what I think.  You didn’t even ask me what I thought.  I was your _lover_ , Blaine, of almost four years, your best friend, your fucking quote unquote soul mate and you just… left me with no regard.  We could have had a whole plan to fix you.”

“No, Kurt!  You know I’ve always been a major fuck-up who runs from any conflict I can.  It’s what I did, that was who I was.  I needed to do that so I can grow from it, Kurt!  You really don’t see how well I’m handling this conversation compared to how I would have handled it years ago?”  

Blaine sits on Kurt’s bed, if only to center his swaying and shivering core.  He lowers his voice.

“You know, I thought love was this abstract concept that everyone always talked about but never experienced and then I met you, Kurt, and honestly?  I thought you’d get off on having a high-schooler in your bed a few times and then let me go.  I never expected to be reeled in like this, to be in love so passionately, urgently, because the only fucking example I had of it were my own fucking parents who stopped loving me when I told them how gay I am.”  Blaine tilts his head upwards to look at Kurt.  “Everything fucking hurts without you, and time is not making it any better.  You were like that prize at the end of Christian and now I can’t help but feel like I went through all of that for nothing.”  Blaine breathes.  “Everything reminds me of you and what I could have had, and maybe I’m too late because someone beat me to a promise, but God dammit Kurt, I will never stop loving you and I won’t be able to deal with it if he wins.”  He twirls and picks up the picture, thrusting it into Kurt’s chest.  “Do you love him?”

Kurt blinks.  The silence is promising.

Blaine continues.  “I’ll always have your heart, at least part of it, and you can’t stop loving me either and it fucking kills you because there is nothing more that you want than to just get over me because I fucked up and you forgiving me would be letting yourself down, right?  You think that doesn’t hurt?  You think I haven’t wanted to call you?  Do you know how many times I threw my phone across the room?  Because you don’t know fucking heartbreak until it stares at you from a phone call in New York City with the love of your life telling you he’s just been asked to get married to someone entirely different than you.  And you don’t know heartbreak until you finally work up the guts you never had to suck it up and call Kurt Hummel only to find out his fucking phone has been disconnected, and none of your mutual friends will give you the new number because you were clearly the reason why he dumped the old one in the first place.  And you know that you said exactly the same thing at the Lima Bean that day before my birthday when you decided to stop fucking playing games and just be with me.  You tried for me then, why can’t you try for me now?  Kurt, baby…”

They’re both sobbing now, Blaine fallen to his knees with his head in his hands and Kurt, over-dramatically wailing in the corner.

Kurt stands up and wipes his tears, putting on a strange but powerful front.  He knows Blaine isn’t used to this type of body language.  “Blaine.  Do not embarrass yourself and propose right now.  I haven’t even-”

Blaine laughs through his tears.  “Shut up, it’s not a proposal.  I’m just saying that marriage is such a fucking game-changer, and something you should only share with someone you truly love above everyone else in your life.  What does this Oliver douche mean to you?”

Kurt says nothing.  

“I love you, Kurt.  I’m not going to stop loving you, and maybe the timing fucking sucks right now, but if I had to compete for your heart against this random guy you hardly know?  Really?  I will do anything to make all of this right again, I think you know that.”

“Fuck you both and your damn drama, holy shit.”  Santana comes into the section of apartment allotted for Kurt, rubbing her dark eyes clearly woken up from a deep slumber.  She falls shamelessly across the bed and snuggles up with the pile of pillows.  “Hey Anderballs.  Happy you’ve finally got your head out of your ass and you realize how much Hummel Doll is worth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Stripper.”  Really, he’s ecstatic to see one of his closest friends but he can’t pull away from the conversation at hand with Kurt yet.  It would be in bad taste, and would ultimately lead to something unresolved.  He keeps his eyes locked on Kurt, furrowing his brow deeply in an effort not to cry.  “Kurt, I-”

“I think you need to go, Blaine.”  Kurt’s words cut like a knife.  “Oli’s supposed to come over in the morning, and I need to have a really important conversation with him, one where you, of all people, shouldn’t be lingering around to hear.”

“Me of all people.  It’s me who’s about to save you from making the worst fucking mistake of your life, Kurt!  You just up and marry whoever the fuck asks, now?  Why?  Because you’ve had fucking wedding fever since we were together? Where the fuck have you been through all of this, Lopez?”

A muffled “sleeping” comes out from under the pillows as the only logical response from Santana in this moment.  Blaine huffs and strips down until he’s naked right in front of Kurt, lingering for a few extra seconds before he slips on the borrowed flannel bottoms.

Kurt watches him change, blushing high to the tips of his ears.  “She’s not my babysitter, Blaine.”

Blaine scoffs.  “Somebody needs to put you in check, Kurt.  You are acting like a disgusting little boy and it’s not cute.  Why are you settling when not one month ago, you were crying to me about how you wanted me on my knees?”

“Wanky.”  Santana props herself up and raises an eyebrow.

Kurt and Blaine both ignore her as Kurt answers the question as if it’s the driest conversation to have ever been held.

“Maybe because you were the only fucking person who could ever ground me; you’re the one person I could ever love properly.  I’m out of control and belligerent because _you’re_ not here to stabilize me.  Don’t you see I’m completely lost without you?  Because you are the only one I’ll ever want and second best is the only way I can live a life now?”  Poking Blaine harshly in the chest, Kurt screams, his voice giving out halfway through the sentence until he cries.  “I hate you, Blaine Anderson.  I hate you so fucking much!  Go back to California and have an awesome fucking life surfing or smoking pot or getting HIV in the fucking Castro.  Fuck you, get the fuck out of my life and out of my apartment!”  

Ringlets of hair soaked and dripping, Blaine opens his arms and tilts his head, a shadow of a smile hanging loosely on his mouth.  Kurt responds by punching at his chest hard, trying to push him away and cursing his very existence.  Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt with a tight hold until Kurt gives it up and cries into his hands resting on Blaine’s chest.  

Blaine kisses Kurt’s hair.  “Feels good to get everything out, huh?”

Kurt slouches in his arms, faintly nodding against Blaine’s chest.  “How do you still know me so well?”  Kurt pulls back to look into Blaine’s eyes.  “I know nothing about your life anymore.”

Blaine brings his voice down to a whisper as he pulls Kurt back to rest against him again.  “You know you don’t hate me, pretty boy.  You can’t, and that’s why I think you might be really mad at yourself.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I did what I needed to do at the time, and I’m sorry that I broke you like this.  That was never my intention, but I want to make it better for you.  It’s kind of my thing to protect you from everything terrible, and that’s what I have to do to put your pieces back together again, okay?”  Blaine rubs Kurt’s back in small circles until there are only a few sniffles evenly spaced out and under control.  “Now, I have to call Burt and let him know that you’re okay.  He was really concerned, so I figured I’d check up on you.  Said you admitted to settling but never said you were gonna say no to _Oliver_.”  

“Don’t you dare say his name.”

“ _Kurt_ , please.  You know where I stand; the only person stopping you is you.  I know how stubborn you are, but I also know how worth it you are in the end.  So I’m going to keep trying, and I’m not giving up.  It’s not like I haven’t been through the unholy wrath of Kurt Hummel’s resistance plan before, right?”  Blaine squeezes him harder and holds him against his chest.

They detach from each other and Kurt walks straight across the room to the window, staring out at the rain outside, at the city below him waking up.

“I borrowed the Navigator.  Hope that’s cool.”  Blaine sits at the foot of the bed and looks up at Kurt, complete with puppy dog eyes and a pout to match.  

Kurt turns to face his ex-boyfriend.  He wipes a tear and can’t help but twitch his lip upwards at the slightest of angles.  “You drove?”

“All night,” Blaine says with a shrug.

“But from Ohio; that’s where the car was.”

“You know when I texted you about how I wished I was in Ohio with you?”

“Mmm.”

“I was on the other side of the terminal watching your reactions from behind a pole.”

“Oh my God.  Why didn’t you-”

“Because that crazy conversation we just had in the comfort of your own home would have been laid out harshly at the Columbus International Airport.  I protected your dignity, pretty.”  Blaine grins when Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles.

“You were coming for me anyway, though.  You came to Ohio for me.”

“I went to Ohio so that my Kurt…” Blaine approaches him and grabs his hand. “So that my Kurt didn’t ruin his whole life.  Evidently, I was about twenty minutes late.”

Kurt looks into his eyes.  Kurt really look at him; his newly pronounced jaw line, his eyebrows that make him almost resemble a cartoon all the time, his shining, glistening, hopeful, eyes looking back at him as if he’s taking in all the details he’s missed, the shadow of scruff.  He’s grown up, a year away from being a college graduate, and he’s not nearly as closed-off to the world as he was.  Kurt’s eyes soften; Blaine smiles shyly and looks away.  “ _Kurt_ …”

“You’re not too late.  You’re exactly on time.”

Blaine intertwines their fingers and leads them back to Kurt’s bed.  They sit next to each other at the foot, turned toward each other.  He looks up to the ceiling and sighs.

“You do know it was New York and not you, don’t you?  That’s why I left.”

Santana sits up and groans.  “If Blaine moves back, I’m moving to the Upper West Side with you assholes.  I cannot risk being mugged on the daily to save Kurt Hummel’s dignity.”

Kurt and Blaine both startle, Santana having gone unnoticed for more than a few minutes.

“I have to finish school in California.  But you guys can move back there whenever you want.  You know that.”

“Kurt here would rather we pay rent for a shit hole in the ghetto than live for free in a high rise five-hundred feet from the train!”

Kurt feels the need to explain a bit deeper than Santana’s stupid reasoning.  “It wouldn’t be right to live there.  Without you.” 

“It’s safer there, babe.  I’d be surprised if the Navigator is still there when I go downstairs.  Santana’s right, you don’t need to save face and risk your life every day on my account.”  Blaine looks at Kurt again, who is rolling his eyes dramatically, probably in an effort to stop the tears.  “Pretty…”

“Stop it, Blaine.”

As if on cue, Santana takes the hint and pads away and back into the area she consumes.  There’s silence throughout the apartment.

Kurt lies back and groans.  His knees are bent at the foot of the bed and his feet are slighted, cemented to the ground.  “It’s weird to have you here.  I’m surprised I’m not shaking.”  He’s still gripping tightly to Blaine’s hand.

Blaine lies back so they’re connected from their knees, through their thighs and torsos, to their shoulders.  He shifts their hands to rest on Blaine’s stomach.  “I think you’re punishing yourself because I’m not here anymore.”

“It’s affordable.”

“I know you sold the diner.  You don’t need to do affordable.  Besides, you could do free on 70th street.  Everything is how we left it.”

“You weren’t supposed to find out about the diner.”

“We bought it together.  I needed to sign all the transfer paperwork for the new buyer.  I’m not gonna lie, that broke my heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We can get something else.  No big deal.”

“Blaine, I-”

Blaine shakes his head frantically and cuts him off.   “I’m sorry it took me so long to come running for you.  I don’t know what’s going to happen, but-”

Kurt turns his head to look at Blaine already looking at him.  “B, I have a boyfriend.”

“I know you do.”  Blaine shrugs.  “But-”

Kurt jumps up and paces the length of the makeshift room.  “No.  Please don’t make me do this.  Blaine, you have to go.  I’m not saying yes to Oliver, I’ll never say yes to him, but I’m not breaking up with him either.  We’ll talk, let’s try to be friends, but you can’t be here.  Not now.  You have to go.”

Blaine stands.  “You’re kicking me out.”

“Yes.  You need to go.”

“You’re kicking me out _again_.  Like that night I lost my fucking virginity to you.”

Kurt finds his cuticles incredibly interesting.  He whispers.  “Yes.”

“Okay.”  Blaine shrugs and throws Kurt a sad smile.  “Have a good night, then.  I’ll go sleep with Santana.”

“Okay.”  A whisper, a crack in mutual hearts, and just like that…  Blaine’s gone.  

**xK &Bx**

Blaine pads out into the living room and toward his suitcase.  He sneaks around the kitchen for a while, finding random pieces of paper with Kurt’s handwriting scribbled, only phrases of what love means, or hurt, or loss.  He sighs and tries to predict where Santana is sleeping.

He finally finds and creeps into Santana’s area and slides in under the covers next to her.  She stirs and mutters a phrase that is not even remotely English.  

Blaine laughs and kisses her cheek, climbing into bed with her.  “Can I crash here?  Hummel hates me.”

“Awww, go fuck him raw so he has no choice but to make up with you.”

“Can’t.  Need to sleep with my Striptease.”

“Fuck off.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Fuck off.”

“Missed you.”

“Me too, lover boy.  He’s been miserable.”

Blaine sighs.  “I know.  I have been too.”

Santana gets right back on to sleep, snuggled up with Blaine for the remainder of the night.  Blaine, however, tosses and turns until it forces him into unconsciousness, only with the knowledge of Kurt less than a hundred feet away, most likely wide awake as well.

The apartment is eerie and Blaine’s connected to the wrong person in it.  He’s going to get Kurt back if it’s the last thing he does.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**  
 ****  
Songs used in this chapter:  
 **Taylor Swift – Trouble (Music Video Interlude)**  
 **Taylor Swift – Last Time**

Blaine’s the first of the two to startle awake, from a dream having to do with a psychedelic wedding in the middle of Central Park.  The image of Kurt in a tie-dyed tuxedo is not as unwelcome as one might think, although Blaine has no doubt in his mind that his love looks great in anything, even after all this time.  He stares at the ceiling, counting the eminent cracks he can make out above and openly ponders if all he’s had with Kurt is gone forever after the words they exchanged last night.  Santana stirs and mumbles something still not remotely English and Blaine opts to find his way to the kitchen for coffee instead of waking her up.  It’s the safer scenario of the two.  

The apartment is quiet, especially for it appearing so _lived_ in.  He looks around and bites his lip when he can’t find anything of substance to eat or drink.  There’s almost nothing in the refrigerator.  He peaks into Kurt’s room and when it’s obvious he’s not home, he sneaks back into Santana’s room, almost tip-toeing to maintain any reflection of grace.  He zeroes in on her keys thrown on her desk and steals them before she has a chance to see what he’s up to. Waking Santana Lopez will ultimately turn into a game of twenty questions, and he really can’t risk conversation before his caffeine intake.  

This is New York; there has to be some sort of nourishment for purchase nearby.

He finds his damp tee shirt that now smells of mold from the night it was balled up on Kurt’s floor.  He throws it on, shuddering at the cold, uncomfortable feeling of the fabric assaulting his skin.  He ruffles his frizzed mop on the top of his head, unstyled since the downpour, and finds his glasses since he slept in the only pair of contacts he brought with him.  Appearance is not something to care about right now; Brooklyn is usually not a place of judgment.  

Apparently, Bushwick does not have a market for coffee.  There only appears to be one, ironically reminding him of his safe haven back home in Lima.  He opens the door and immediately hears a ribbon of bells identical to the one back home and he gasps as he leans back to read the sign.  He breathes in the familiar scent of ground espresso beans and a hint of cinnamon, warm vanilla, and something else that he’s missing entirely and looks around suspiciously before retreating to the end of the line.  It’s surreal, coming off an urban street and being transported directly into his hometown.  His brain before coffee has been rather questionable lately; there’s no way he could have just walked into a New York version of The Lima Bean.

He hops to the end of the line and looks around.  As the line moves slowly but surely past the pastries and cold drinks, Blaine can’t help but feel like he’s right back where it all started, but when he sees this morning’s special – the _Blaine_ – he knows he’s come to the right place.  

He taps his foot out to the melody of the music flowing above him, assumingly from the same exact playlist, and moves forward in the queue.  A large, burly woman with a mullet moves out of the way with her coffee-drug and there stands the most perfect, beautiful barista to have ever lived.

His eyes lock with Kurt’s – Kurt, behind the counter in an embroidered navy blue Brooklyn Bean apron, an updated but similar logo to the original from years ago.  They stare at one another, never before as broken and further from each other as this moment.  Kurt breaks away and starts to prepare a croissant and a Medium Drip without a word.  

Blaine waits patiently, confident to the bone that Kurt is making what he would have asked for anyway.  He picks up a branded gift card at the edge of the cash register and fiddles with it so he’s doing _something_ and smiles at his beautiful ex-boyfriend when he comes back with his brunch.  

He replaces the giftcard where it belongs and swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth.  “Um, if you have time… come join me?”  

“Blaine.”

“If you can.  No pressure, okay?”  Blaine chews at his lip, puts a five-dollar bill in the tip jar, takes his croissant and coffee, stares at Kurt for a few too many seconds, then finally turns to search for a seat.  He’s grateful for the empty table for two by a large floor-to-ceiling window, delicately decorated with a swirled design, almost as though it is a see-through mural of what his life would be like if his coffee had been laced with LSD.  He shakes off the second 1970s thought he’s had today and stares at nothing in particular, allowing all the time necessary to pass until Kurt makes up his mind and convinces himself to join Blaine.  

He pets the glass that covers a slew of dried flowers, tracing each bleeding heart with his pointer.  The metaphor in this moment is almost too easy.

How did he let it get to this point, to the point where he didn’t even know that Kurt bought a brand new business in New York?  When was it considered too long, too unfixable, too lost?  He’s not sure what he was thinking; he can’t lose Kurt now, at least not completely because if he loses him – _really lets him go_ – he’ll absolutely forget to take care of himself and it won’t be pretty.  

As he sips his familiar coffee, he reminisces back to the time they were together, so deep in love that nothing else mattered.  He remembers feeling Kurt’s warmth, his love resonating out of his veins and into Blaine’s skin, like there was no purpose for Kurt but to supply Blaine with life.

He takes the time to watch Kurt putter around behind the counter, as he did several times before they got together, or even talked, at the original Lima Bean.  It’s surreal to watch the exact same man go through identical ways to avoid him, nearly five years later and just about eight hundred miles to the east.  He can’t help but frown as he compares current Kurt to the Kurt he was when he was twenty-eight, and it’s like he doesn’t even know him anymore.  He’s still beautiful as ever, of course.  That’s never going to change.  It seems, though, that the world isn’t so bright for him any longer.  It feels as though he’s carrying himself differently, with an added weight on his shoulder that Blaine can’t help fight off this time.  He seems… different, lagging behind the rest of the world, done.

Blaine is out of his trance the instant he feels a woman trying to gain his attention.  She seems pissed off, when he looks up, that he’s not answering her.  She taps him on the shoulder, blinking rapidly as if to say _what the fuck, dude_?

“Oh, I’m sorry.  What did you just say?”  She’s suddenly invisible when Blaine notices that Kurt is directly behind the woman, holding his own coffee, coming to join him.

“Can I have this chair?  My book club… we’re one short…”

“Oh!  Oh, my um, you see, my… Kurt, here, is just about to join me.  Kurt!  Hey!”  The woman raises an eyebrow at his stutter but Blaine doesn’t care; he sees right through her to Kurt, his one and only, his Kurt.  

“Hey.”  Kurt smiles at Blaine and then looks over to his customer.  “How’s everything, Tami?  Jonathan has a few extra chairs in the back if you can’t find any.  Let him know you need one, yeah?”

Tami, the petite Brooklynnite, nods her acceptance and smiles.  “Thank you, Kurt.  Sorry to bother you and your…” She blushes and goes to excuse herself but Blaine shoots up – anything to make this forthcoming conversation with Kurt prolonged in some way, now that it’s staring him in the face.

“Oh, wait.  Here.”  Blaine takes the extra chair by the armrests and walks it over to the table Tami came from a few minutes prior.  “I’ll get one for you.  Go relax.”

Blaine hurries over to the counter and talks with the barista, whom he could only pray is Jonathan.  After a confirmation and the retrieval of a new chair, Blaine carries it back to their table and smiles at Kurt.

“Wow.”  Kurt smirks, having watched Blaine’s every move.  “I’m impressed, B.”

Kurt’s smirk is contagious; Blaine mimics him teasingly.  “What?”  

“If Tami would have asked for your chair even three years ago, she would have had a black eye by now.”

Blaine laughs.  He laughs from his belly the way he used to with Kurt, the way he hadn’t since Kurt.  “Shut the fuck up.”  He grins.  He’s kind of getting whiplash from Kurt; the conversation they had earlier left him feeling nervous and angry.

Kurt hides a smile by pushing at his cuticles.

Blaine focuses on his coffee so he doesn’t blatantly stare at Kurt, truly more gorgeous than he remembers now that he’s able to look at him fully in the sunlight shining through the window.  He looks up to Kurt watching him, a small smile escaping his lips and a slight tilt to his head.

“Hi.”

Blaine shrugs.  “Lima Bean the second, huh?  Who knew?”  

Kurt shrugs with one shoulder.  “I needed something to keep me rooted to New York.  I was so close to going back to Ohio after you left and I didn’t belong there.  Actually, I just opened three weeks ago.”

“But you had the diner.”

“I needed something that was _mine_.”

“Understandable.”  Blaine takes a sip of his coffee and looks at Kurt again.

“Was the Navigator still there?”

“Oh shit!  I have no idea.”

Kurt grins.  He’s clearly teasing, testing the waters.  “It was.  I moved it to the garage under our building this morning.  Santana can show you where it is…”

“Oh.  Thanks.”  Blaine takes another sip of his coffee, but doesn’t dare lose the eye contact with Kurt.

“Blaine…”

“I’m so sorry, Kurt.  Fuck.”  Blaine reaches for his hand and sparks fly when Kurt takes it and squeezes.

“Uhhh, Kurt?”

At the call of his name, Kurt pulls away and turns around.  He’s shocked to see this mysterious man ready to burst at the seams of rage, jealousy becoming more apparent as the seconds tick on.  The guy crosses his arms messily, like he’s never really mastered the art of appearing eloquent.   

“Babe, you didn’t call me when you got back from Indiana.”

Blaine snorts; this must be _Oliver_.  This is too perfect.

Kurt seems ashamed and looks down, shaking his head.  He’s definitely embarrassed that he’s sitting there handing Blaine, on a silver fucking platter, easy reasons why he and Oliver shouldn’t be together.

Blaine clears his throat in an effort to not laugh.  He whispers.  “Sorry.”

Oliver looks to Kurt and then to Blaine.  “And you are?”

Blaine looks up and blinks.  “Just leaving.  Hummel, call me when you get rid of the boytoy.”  He gulps the rest of his coffee and tosses his trash into the garbage.  He turns to look at Kurt again.  “Kurt?”

“Yeah.”  He lifts his head. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”  Blaine pushes the door open and pauses under the frame to take one more look at Kurt.  He turns and steps out of the coffee shop.

“Blaine!”  Kurt is standing now and can’t seem to care that Oliver is watching the entire exchange.

Blaine sighs, complete with a sad smile, as he catches the door and turns around to face him.

“I’ll be back to the apartment in an hour.  Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Blaine nods and smiles.  “We don’t say goodbye to each other.”  He raises his eyebrow.  “Have fun with your boyfriend, pretty boy.”

Kurt smiles his actual smile, the one that hopefully says that said boyfriend will never have a chance, and shoos Blaine away.  

Blaine rushes out of the coffee shop and tries to blend into the streets as he had two years ago.  It’s so true; New York has the tendency to swallow and spit, leaving one even weaker than they began, but Blaine reminds himself that he would do it all over again for Kurt.  Of course he would; it’s _Kurt_.  

He’s ripped out of his pleasure thoughts when there’s a tug on the strap of his messenger bag, dragging him back toward the person behind him who clearly needs to speak with him urgently.  

“What the fuck are you doing?”  He surges forward out of the grasp of Oliver’s clammy hands, most definitely ruining the expensive leather strap against Blaine’s back.  Blaine turns and laughs without humor at the sight before him.    
“Oh, you.”  He really thought he was getting mugged in the slums of Brooklyn.

“You stay away from him, dickhead.”

“Wow!  Possessive and eloquent.  Seriously, how did Kurt not find you sooner?  Oh, right.  He was busy… with me.”

“Fuck you!  Don’t let me catch you near him ever again, he’s _mine_.”

Blaine sighs and goes to walk away but quickly turns around again to approach Oliver.  He stands on his tippy-toes, trying with all of his might to at least appear taller and bigger.  “I dare you to ask him to choose.”  He says through gritted teeth.  Looking into Oliver’s eyes then all the way down his body, Blaine makes it obvious he is disgusted beyond his wildest dreams.  

“He’s my boyfriend.  He loves me.”  Oliver invades Blaine’s space, inching in closer so they are nose to nose.  “You stay away from him.  I know exactly what you did to him.”

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing!”  Kurt finally catches up, nearly out of breath, shoulders slouching and chest heaving.  He pulls them apart and holds Oliver back a bit.  “Go home, Blaine.”

Blaine backs off of them and blinks.  “He chased after me.  I was merely defending myself.”

“Go, Blaine.”

The next thing he knows, Blaine is being slammed into the brick wall behind him.  He’s being brutally punched and kicked while choking on blood dripping from his mouth to the sidewalk.  He looks up at a raging Oliver who’s being held back and screamed at by a terrified, wide-eyed Kurt.  Blaine wipes at his mouth, dabs at his nose, and stumbles to his feet.  

“Jesus, Kurt.  Way to reign in the tiger.”

Kurt keeps his eyes locked on Blaine, although he’s still grasping at Oliver’s biceps to calm him.  Blaine throws his arms up and stares back at Kurt, his bleeding face twisted in disappointment.  

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me, Oliver Twist.”

He turns and walks away toward Kurt’s apartment.

**xK &Bx **

“Asshole!  You had them this whole time.  I have to be at work in a half hour!  Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”

“Sorry, Striptease.”  Blaine throws the keys at her and sits on the bare couch, grinding his teeth and seriously trying with everything he is to calm down.  He lifts his shirt over his head and applies pressure to his nose.  He probably looks so small, cocooned in the couch, his head barely peeking over the arm with the lack of cushions on it.  

“Why the fuck would you throw the couch cushions into the kitchen, though, San?”

“Blaine?”  Santana’s response actually sounds somewhat sincere.  There’s no underlying gay sex joke at all.  Blaine absently believes that might be the first time she doesn’t tease him about something related to his sexuality since he got his ankle bracelet off years ago.  Since before he stopped being her client.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Brooklyn Bean or whatever the fuck?”  There’s a beat when Santana shrugs and Blaine sighs dramatically.  “I met Douchebag.”

“Wait!  Oliver?  He hit you?  Where’s Kurt?”

“I don’t know, probably making sure his boyfriend calms the fuck down before I fucking kill him.”  There’s a beat.  “I don’t think this is going to work, honestly.”

“Anderson, Oliver is just a distraction so Kurt could stop crying over you; trust me.  Shit, I really have to get to work and I’m already late.  Hang out here and I’ll call you as soon as I get settled in.”

Blaine shrugs and smiles, although the twitch in his lips would probably set Santana off a cliff if there was one available.  “I think it’s really over.  He’s so… Kurt’s so different and it’s breaking my heart.  Again.”

“Dude, seriously?  That’s who Kurt is without _you_ in his life.  That’s who he was in high school and pretty much leading up to the time he met you.  Now he’s stuck here without you, paranoid that Christian or even fucking Eddie is going to find him and he’s gonna be done for.”  She claps twice and sits next to him to hug him from the side.  He brings his arm up and his head over to rest against hers for a second.  “We’ll figure it out, if that’s what you still want,” she says and kisses his temple.  “I’ll call you as soon as Kurt leaves so we can talk freely.”  

“You fucking work there, too?  Santana!  You are supposed to tell me these things!”

“Love you, lover boy! Don’t hate me!”  She slams the door behind her and Blaine is once again left with the awkward silence he’s never gotten used to, living alone.  He stares at the dark television screen, not really seeing it.  He curses himself for meeting Kurt in the first place, not because it wasn’t a beautiful relationship while he had it, but because it has caused so much despair for Kurt.  Because of Blaine, Kurt is in New York, miserably looking over his shoulder after every step for Blaine’s father or the one person that could have ever made him leave New York in his past life.

Blaine knows a bit about Eddie, having been told the whole story about him while trying to fall asleep one of their first nights in New York years prior.  He knows that he abused Kurt and left him for all he was worth, using his body as just a basic hole.  He knows that Kurt left New York the first time to run away from Eddie.

Even worse than all of that, Kurt willingly returned to New York because Blaine made promises he couldn’t keep, like every word he’d ever said to Kurt was store-bought and generic.  Blaine feels horrible for leading his love into an environment probably still poisoned from before.

He finds the flannel pants he borrowed from Kurt again and one of Kurt’s tee shirts he must only use to lounge in.  He walks to the kitchen and trashes his own shirt (God, does he have a great amount of previous experience of getting blood out of clothes; he just doesn’t want to deal with it now and in somebody else’s sink) then moves to replace the couch’s cushions, haphazardly thrown anywhere as Santana turned the place upside down looking for her keys.  He runs around the apartment straightening up the way he always had when he lived with Kurt, stopping abruptly when he realizes it’s not his place to keep up with.  He sits back on the couch staring at the screen again, contemplating just leaving and never looking back.

He gets up and explores Kurt’s area a bit, shamelessly petting an old picture of them that very first Thanksgiving that’s still up, taped next to Kurt’s dream board.  There is also a suspicious piece of folded up and lined loose-leaf paper pinned almost as a border to the picture.  He moves both of them down off the wall and unfolds the paper carefully.

It’s Kurt’s handwriting, he’d know that from a mile away.  He reads it because he can’t put it down, so much so that it might have been coated in super glue waiting for hands to latch on.

_I think… I think when it’s all over, it just comes back in flashes, you know?_   
_It’s like a kaleidoscope of memories.  It just all comes back.  But he never does._   
_I think part of me knew the second I saw him that this would happen._   
_It’s not really anything he said or anything he did, it was the feeling that came along with it._   
_And the crazy thing is I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel that way again, but I don’t know if I should._   
_I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright._   
_But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you?_   
_Maybe he knew that when he saw me._   
_I guess I just lost my balance._   
**_I think that the worst part of it all wasn’t losing him, it was losing me._ **

Blaine finds himself sobbing on the floor of Kurt’s bedroom.  The sting of Kurt’s words, the way it burns as the knife twists in the worst angle possible, it’s all unbearable beyond belief and for that, Blaine cries.  Two years ago, the last thing Blaine would have ever wanted to do was intentionally hurt Kurt, and he managed to keep digging deeper every single day he stayed away.  

**xK &Bx**

“Santana!  Where is Santana?  I’m going to kill her.  She’s late.”  Kurt stands up from double-checking that Blaine didn’t hit Oliver back.  

This is like his worst nightmare.  

He’s on the verge of tears, digging in his pocket for his phone just as she slams into the door, twirling into the coffee shop like Sonic the Hedgehog.  

“What the hell, man!  Watch where you’re going, and welcome to Bushwick!”  She curtsies to a tourist, clearly lost, and quickly scans the room, obviously looking for Kurt.  She drops her shoulders when they lock eyes.  “Hey.  Sorry!  Blainers stole my keys while I was sleeping and I couldn’t find them until him and his bloody face and black eye came dancing through the door twenty minutes ago.  Care to explain that one?  Because he refused.”  Kurt watches as she gives Oliver the best possible disgusted face, although the question was directed to Kurt.  When he has seemingly gone mute, she disappears to the back, muttering a slew of profanities in Spanish.

“Well!  Now that my trusty Assistant Manager is officially here, you’ll be okay?”  Kurt tilts his head at Oliver, and when he nods, Kurt follows Santana to the back room to grab his computer. 

“Kurt.  What the fuck-”

“San, please not now.  I need to go make sure he’s okay.”  Kurt cuts her off, complete with a pointed look, as he works diligently to pack up as quickly as possible.

“Kurt!  Oliver is fucking fine.  Apparently, he’s the one who started it and he’s the one who should be bleeding all over our couch right now.”

“I am not going to check on Oliver, Santana.”

“Oh.  Well.  I still think you could potentially be ruining your life with all of this drama.”

“Blaine ruined it when he moved across the country without so much of a conversation with me to see what I thought about it.”  There’s a beat.  “I can’t talk about this again, San.”

“He’s here now.  He is across the country from where he usually is.  Now.  For you.”

“Which is why I need to go make sure he’s okay.  Thanks for caring.  I know it all sounds so ridiculous, like I should just drop everyone else and run straight to Blaine, but…”  He shrugs.

“You’re not running _straight_ to anyone, Hummel.”

Kurt shakes his head and laughs without sound.  “That was the easiest and I’m offended you even went for it.  See you later.”  He kisses her cheek and rushes out, pointedly ignoring Oliver’s call out to him to wait up.  He sprints all the way home and rushes through the door and up the stairs, franticly needing to be in front of Blaine.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt likes Oliver enough, just possibly not as much as Oliver likes Kurt.  There is certainly a possibility for the relationship to get serious and comfortable, but it’s only been four months.  He’s officially made the decision that he’ll say no to the proposal simply because Oliver is not Blaine, but he needs to let him down easy and he’s never been in this situation before.  He really needs to think it through.  

Besides, Blaine present in New York fighting for him has definitely thrown him for a loop.  He needs to think about everything going on with Oliver without any distraction, and Blaine Anderson is the epitome of the word.

He rushes home and hopes to God that Blaine has ears that work properly and that he actually listens to Kurt’s suggestion of waiting for him.  He prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that he’ll find beautiful, petite Blaine sitting on his couch, cleaned up from before, waiting patiently so they can discuss all of the drama they need to get through and they can get on with their lives together.  He’s not entirely sure why he’s ditching his current boyfriend for his ex; there’s really no explanation besides that jumble involving a magnet or a yin yang or something supernatural, superficial, fake.  Regardless, he takes the stairs two at a time and swings the door open with force only to find an unfortunately empty and lonely apartment.  He falls to his knees and blinks away empty tears.  He feels as alone as he did the day he heard the door slam on 70th street, but he picks himself up and finds his way to the kitchen for a cup of tea anyway, eventually forgotten when he can see Blaine’s handwriting stuck to his refrigerator.

**_I went to the condo… needed the piano.  Please meet me there.  Please.  xx – B_ **

Kurt may not know Blaine so well anymore, but he knows that Blaine only needs his piano when he needs to get in touch with the deep, dark feelings he stores away for his lowest moods.  He plays the piano to make sure he can still feel something.  Kurt had been well aware of this fact since the beginning, since Blaine was just a teenager trying to win Kurt over.  He needs to check on Blaine right away. 

Kurt still loves Blaine, of that he’s absolutely sure.  He is not, however, positive that jumping right into a relationship with Blaine is exactly what either of them need right now.

On the cab ride to the Upper West Side, Kurt decides what he needs to do.

His key hasn’t budged from his key ring since they moved in together four years ago.  He waves shyly to the doorman and leads himself to the elevator, checking his hair in the mirror on the way upstairs.  He allows himself into the condo and heads straight to the back, all of his surroundings utterly unchanged and eerie and theirs, and he leans on the doorframe as Blaine pours his soul out onto the keys of his baby grand.

_This is the last time I’m asking you this,_   
_Put my name at the top of your list,_   
_This is the last time I’m asking you why,_   
_You break my heart in the blink of an eye._

Kurt pushes off the molding and sits next to Blaine on the crushed velvet bench identical to the one Blaine left behind in Ohio.  The piano sits next to the window overlooking Broadway and Kurt waits patiently as Blaine goes through the last eight-bar of the song, slower than originally scored, gazing out into the crowd below.  

_If you love something, let it go…_

“Kurt, I-”

“Wait, let me see you.  Are you okay?  He hit you pretty hard.”

Blaine turns his body to face Kurt’s, slouching over himself ever so slightly.  Kurt can’t help but stare at Blaine’s pitiful face, wearing every emotion he’s feeling at the tip of his nose.  Blaine, beautiful and distant Blaine, with red-rimmed eyes and a wet tear falling down his cheek.  Kurt’s beautiful Blaine is sitting in front of him, at the end of his road and ready to give up all because of him.  He lifts his hands to smooth Blaine’s curls as flat as they’ll go and smiles.  

“Talk to me, honey.  You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.  I didn’t start it.”

“I know you didn’t.  There’s not a mark on him.”

Blaine sighs and looks down to his hands.  His fingers, visibly shaking, are doing nothing for his confidence and he exhales all the air out of his lungs, quivering with each nerve splitting in two.  

“Blaine, I’m… I-”

“For the first time ever, it feels over.”

“Honey.”  Kurt curls his own fingers around Blaine’s forearm and squeezes as a form of acknowledgement. “Look at me.”

Blaine is crying, his shoulders insecure and jittery with each sob escaping.  “I can’t do that, Kurt.”

“Blaine, look at me.  Let me see your eye.  I need to make sure he didn’t hurt you too much.”  He pushes his fingers under Blaine’s chin and lifts up and forward.  Blaine finds his eyes, but shifts away quickly.

“ _Kurt_.  I miss you.”

Kurt tilts his head and examines Blaine’s eye, ensuring that there are no damaged blood vessels.  “I love you, okay?  I will never, ever, ever, _ever_ love anyone else as I have loved you, but Blaine. Honey, I can’t… I honestly cannot trust you when you say you’ll never hurt me… again.  At least, not yet.”  He takes a deep breath, letting the words bleed into Blaine’s soul so that maybe he’ll understand what he’s trying to say. After a few seconds, Kurt continues.  “It was so unfair of me to call you after… I’m so sorry.  I wasn’t thinking at all.  Please help me make this easiest for both of us and let me let you go.  We deserve so much better than a constant state of wondering if we were ever good for each other.”

“Kurt.  Please.”  Blaine tries to catch his breath but fails miserably.  “Pretty, please don’t do this.  I can’t… it hurts.  Oh God, it hurts.”

This is like the conversation that should have happened two years ago, but entirely opposite. 

Kurt gets up and reaches into his pocket, unraveling his keychain, and places the key to the condo on top of the piano.  He sits back down next to Blaine, straddling the piano bench with one leg on each side horizontally.  He palms Blaine’s thighs and leans into him.  “Blaine.  Stop with the helplessness.  That’s not you.  You are going to go on and do such great things; I’m just going to be a blip on your radar.  You’ll see.  I’m letting you go _because_ I love you.  You have to let someone else in, baby.”

“Don’t leave me, don’t do this to us.”

“You left me, and I’ve forced myself to move on since.”

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m so sorry.”

“There is so much better out there for you than silly, old me.  I love you and that’s why I need to say goodbye.  Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“No.”

Kurt laughs through his tears.  “Listen, smart ass.”  He tilts his head and looks at his ex again.  “I don’t want to, but I have to.  I love you, I love you so much, it has to happen this way even if I’m settling.  I’m not marrying him though, so... just know that.”

“This doesn’t make any fucking sense.  We’re both unhappy… without each other, so why the fuck… why are we without each other?  Please let us try again. I need you, Hummel.  You said that you’d always-”

“Every single thing ever that you want, you’ll get.”  Kurt stands and pushes a kiss into Blaine’s curls, inhaling slightly, closing his eyes to remember this moment until the end of time.  “Take care of yourself for me.”  He straightens his back and stares at Blaine’s crouched shoulders for the last time ever.  He sighs and turns, exiting Blaine’s life and breaking every promise they ever held for each other since the beginning of Kurt and Blaine. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Songs used in this chapter:**

**Taylor Swift – Forever and Always (Piano Version)**

Kurt smashes his finger into the elevator’s button several times and with so much force, it sticks.  The lift takes forever to get him to street level and he grows more impatient with every second that passes.  He pointedly ignores the doorman’s friendly words as he leaves, regretting that he followed Blaine to their shared apartment in the first place.  He’s showed his face in a neighborhood that he’s tried to block out altogether with only one slip up in the immediate past.  He should have been too busy, too pre-occupied with his own life without Blaine, to give any care to what Blaine thinks of it.  Sprinting out of the building, Kurt blends into the busy crowds of Broadway above Columbus Circle, running around several slower pedestrians that are clearly on their mid-afternoon stroll down through the 60s.  It’s like he’s racing the imaginary ghosts of his past, escaping them any way he can.  He flies down the stairs at the 59th Street subway station and pulls his MetroCard out of his wallet.  

He boards the first train that heads downtown and miraculously finds a seat.  He pushes the back of his head against the cold of the window and closes his eyes, willing off any possibility of a panic attack.  Mindlessly transferring trains when the time comes to take him into Brooklyn, Kurt can’t stop thinking about Blaine’s wellbeing, and when he gets off a full hour later, it takes everything in him not to physically and emotionally deteriorate on his walk home. 

He feels numb, like nothing in his life could ever possibly go right again.  He’s had to say goodbye forever to the one person he never thought to, and that would hurt if Kurt still had a heartbeat.  

_If you love something, let it go.  If he’s truly yours, you’ll meet again._

Kurt calls Santana.  He demands, into her voicemail, that she checks in with Blaine to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.  It’s ironic; Blaine had always been his main source of motivation to continue breathing, even when they weren’t speaking.  Now, he’s nervous that he’s the reason why Blaine would want to end it all.

Kurt’s put his own plans on hold.  He’s in control of this situation.

Santana eventually calls back to say she’s been with Blaine, trying to peel him off the bathroom floor.  The knife twists in his heart as Kurt thinks of the parallel to this statement.  He faintly remembers, but frequently tries to forget, the several phone calls from Blaine when he first moved to California that he refused to answer, having been plastered to the bathroom floor.  Before Kurt changed his number to avoid his ex-boyfriend at all costs.

This complete break-up is best for Kurt and Blaine both.  Now all Kurt needs to do is convince himself it’s a survivable idea.

**xK &Bx**

Most of the conversation is a jumbled series of mumbled words in both English and Spanish.  Burt finally convinces Santana to hand the phone off to Blaine, which only results in a slew of tearful sobs on a face that Burt probably wouldn’t be able to bear if he were standing in front of the boy.  He knows that Blaine usually refuses to show feelings to anyone since Kurt.  Now he’s decaying, unable to move, breathe, see without another crack demolishing him to the core.  Blaine is positively dying of a broken heart.  It’s the only explanation Burt has.

Burt agrees with Santana’s suggestion that he come to visit, and he’s on the first flight the next morning.  

He’s been through his fair share of shit with both Kurt and Finn in his years as a father, but he’s never seen Blaine so broken, so done with life, as he is when he stares at Blaine curled in the middle of his otherwise vacant, once-shared California King sparkling above Broadway.

If Burt were smart enough to recognize the signs, he would see that Blaine is acting in a way as if Kurt has died.  He would recognize this behavior as one in the same from when he, himself, lost his far-too-young wife almost twenty years ago already, or when his current wife lost her son.  Time will heal as much as it’s able, but it will never make it _okay_.  Burt is prepared to tell all of this to Blaine, but when Blaine sits up, rubs his eyes raw, and demands to go back to Bushwick this instant, for the sake of anything identified with closure, Burt can do nothing but nod and follow his son’s ex out of the apartment and into a taxi.

**xK &Bx**

“You guys, seriously.  I just… I wish he wasn’t so alone, otherwise.  Why does my family need to be the one to take him in?  He’s not my family.  He’s my ex-boyfriend.  There’s something so fucked up about this situation when I’m so lonely here, and he constantly turns to you guys.  I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”  

“You’re being an inconsiderate, selfish bitch about this!  You’ve met Christian Anderson, haven’t you?  He has no one but us, Kurt.  What the hell is wrong with you?”  Santana is quick with the response.  She’s making it very obvious how agitated she is with Kurt.  He has an opportunity for the love he needs, and he’s choosing _secure_ over _right and real_.  He’s choosing over fate and it’s not fair to him or Blaine or anyone who needs an example that true love exists and works.

“Uh, yeah Santana.  I’ve met Christian.  It was a very intimate meeting that one time when he beat the shit out of me just for knowing his son?  I am simply saying that it’s been two years and maybe it’s time for him to find his own people and leave mine out of it.”

“You are such an asshole, Kurt.  This is _Blaine_ we’re talking about, not some guy you hooked up with once or twice.”  Rachel pipes in, only as an effort to be heard.  “He changed your life and you know it.”

“And fuck you, Kurt.  Blaine will always be your fucking family, whether you like it or not.  You’ll always be in love with him and you can’t fool any of us.”

Kurt pointedly rolls his eyes at both of them; he can’t confirm nor deny that he fell out of love with Blaine Anderson.  “Why aren’t you with him right now then, Santana?  I thought he was _family_.”

“Because I have someone else on the job who could actually be better for him, douchebag.  You constantly fucking put me in the middle of it all so I have to be conscious to comforting the both of you limp dicks equally.  I can’t fucking wait until you get your head out of your ass and put his dick in.  Honestly.”

Rachel rolls her eyes at Kurt and Santana’s mutual glare, breaking it up before it really starts.  “Kurt.  You can’t possibly wonder why he stays in contact with your parents.  They are the most wonderful people and they’re amazing enough to still accept him, after all of this between you two.  He can’t have his own, so he turns to your family.”  Rachel takes his hand and takes it upon herself to wipe a tear from his cheek.  Kurt almost smiles; Rachel likes Blaine now.  They were able to bond a lot over the past few years, and she would always be able to count him in for any Broadway event.  Kurt knows that her loyalty to him, after everything, is forcing her to miss her friend Blaine because he moved across the country.  She’s gotten smarter lately, saying she misses her friend _Kurt_ even more since Blaine stole his heart and threw it across a sharp, ragged mirror.  It’s not accusing or even judgmental, just the way his destiny turned out in her eyes.

“I think they’re only talking to him to make me realize he’s the one I need to be with or something.  Like, they’re forcing me into it.  As if I don’t know that it would be better with him.  But I can’t.  I don’t trust him anymore.”

Silence between Kurt and his friends is something none of them has ever really mastered before.  He knows there must be more to it than what meets the eye.  He’s jealous that, although Blaine is the one who should be considered the bad guy, Kurt is being betrayed for not dropping everything and running back to him.  If it weren’t for Blaine’s sudden urge to move across the country, they’d still be happily living in a dream.  Kurt shudders.  He feels like a child.

The door slams open to a very angry Burt Hummel and a small and meek Blaine Anderson who refuses to look anywhere but down, hiding his eyes from anyone who could see them.  

“Oh, great.”  Kurt crosses the room and heads into the kitchen, in an effort to not get cornered by yet another person he holds dearly in his heart not taking his side.

“Don’t you run away from me.”  

Kurt shuffles his feet slowly until he’s standing in front of everyone again.  He crosses his arms defensively.  “Of course this comes back to bite me in the ass, I was almost doing _okay_ without him!”  He speaks as though Blaine isn’t right there.

Santana whispers something inaudible to Blaine after she crosses the room swiftly, holding him up in a tight hug.  He hardly moves his arms to go around her body, but they are attached nonetheless.

Rachel scatters into the kitchen from where she was sitting on the couch, trying to convince Blaine and Santana to follow but he hardly acknowledges her existence.  Instead, he stares holes into Kurt’s body, so uncomfortable that Kurt shifts his body to turn the other way.

Burt continues.  “We took Blaine in after he lost his parents in the worst way, Kurt, and we love him as we love you.  You know that, and frankly, I can hardly recognize you for being so inconsiderate of his feelings.  Did he mean nothing to you?”  There’s a beat, everyone well aware that Kurt is definitely not going to answer that question.  “You make me wonder what I did wrong as a father, after eavesdropping on that speech of yours.”

“Dad-”

“Listen here, Kurt.  All poor Blaine wanted to do was talk some sense into you, and you went ahead and broke his heart.  From where I stand, you don’t listen to us; you don’t listen to your friends, so I sent Blaine because, once upon a time, he was the only person in your entire life that might be able to convince you to stop fucking your life up.  I feel responsible for breaking this boy and you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Kurt whispers.  “Poor Blaine.”

“Apologize to him.”

“I am thirty-fucking-four, Father.  I will apologize to whomever I feel the need.”

“Kurt.  I’m not fucking around here, kid.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and shifts again.  “I’m sorry, B.”

Blaine nods at him, but averts his eyes immediately.

Burt looks between them before continuing.  “Now, what is so fucking special about this Oliver guy that makes you turn on the people that love you the most?”  Burt is in complete dad-mode with a fire in his eyes.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Seriously?  This is fucking exhausting… I need to go make sure everything’s fine with the coffee shop and I have errands to run and Oliver and I-” He cuts himself off and looks at Blaine, who must feel his eyes on him and lifts his own.  Blaine gives him a sad half-smile and looks back down to his tangled hands.

“What is so great about him?”  Burt prompts, pushing his son to the absolute edge.

“Maybe if we all understood, we wouldn’t try to push you out of a decision that we only think you’re making because of a previous bad break-up with someone else.”  Rachel suggests, clearly using her quiet, comforting voice.

Burt looks back at Blaine and then back to Kurt.  “Do you know that he beat the shit out of Blaine?  Do you know what that reminds me of, Kurt?  It reminds me of-” Burt cuts himself off.  It wouldn’t be productive to say.

Blaine swallows and looks around the apartment as though he’s trying to be distracted by anything else at all.

“Dad…”

“Tell me.  Why do you… quote unquote _love_ Oliver?”

Something snaps and the dam breaks and the river flows and life has to go on.  “I don’t!  I’m only with Oliver because he’s not Blaine fucking Anderson, okay?  Or at least that’s some of the reason.  I like him, but I’m always fucking comparing him and that’s not fair to anyone because he will never win.  After Blaine leaving with no notice, moving across the country, not fighting for me, Oliver will still _never_ win.  This doesn’t feel like forever the way my previous relationship did; it’s not even close.  You want to know why I’m really with Oliver?  Because I can never allow myself to ever take that kind of risk again, because trust is a choice and I can’t let myself get hurt like that again.  So I need to go with the complete opposite in order to _survive_ , in order to not be alone, at least for now.”  Kurt falls backward onto the couch and sighs audibly.  He sits back up and stares at Blaine again.  “I think I’ve realized that I’m not going to get that happily ever after anymore and I’m just wasting time until it’s unacceptable to do so, until I’m too old to date casually.”  He finds Blaine’s eyes.  “You _broke_ me.  I’ll never know how to fix myself, to get me back to who I was with you, B, because you’ve always been the only one who really knows me.  So I’m trying to take my mind off of it as much as I can without you so maybe, fucking maybe I can actually survive this world without thinking about you every fucking waking moment.  I was really getting along okay without you, but of course I needed to ruin it and call you in the single moment of weakness I’ve allowed myself to have in nearly a year and a half.”

Rachel sneaks herself back into the living room to stand by Blaine and Santana, if only for support.

“Oh, for God’s sake!”  Kurt covers his eyes with his right hand, all the dramatics for show and tell.  “I hate all of you.”

“I’m team Anderson because you’re being a terrible person, Kurt, to both Blaine and to yourself.”  Santana snarls as she rubs circles into the valley of Blaine’s shoulder blades.

“Me too.  I’m sorry, Kurt.  But you need to grow up.”  Rachel nods enthusiastically and takes Blaine’s arm and pats his head like he’s a child.  Always condescending whatever the situation, but she means well. 

“That’s ripe… coming from you, Berry.”

“And me.”  Burt pipes in, inching closer to the three.  “We all love you, but we don’t recognize you right now and so I’m with Blaine on this one.”

“That’s not fair to Kurt, you guys.  You can’t take sides.  You should support him, regardless of his reasoning.  I’m just…” It’s nearly a whisper, a pathetic call out to the wind.  “I’m fine.  You don’t have to gang up on him on my behalf.  I can handle myself.”

Kurt sits up straight and blinks at the three of them crowding around Blaine.  “Awesome.  So I’ve lost my entire family and all of my friends because I broke somebody’s heart.  Do you even care how much that hurts _my_ feelings?”  He stands and approaches Blaine, who’s opted to hugging himself, looking tinier than ever, even standing next to Rachel.  He takes hold of Blaine’s wrist and pulls him away from his bodyguards.  “Blaine, honey.  I don’t even know what to say to you anymore.”

“Just... say something, Kurt.”  It comes out, but hardly.  His voice cracks, and it’s all he could do to hold it together.  

Kurt shakes his head and swallows the lump in his throat.  “I don’t trust myself to say anything.”

They engage in a moment of locked eyes and blurred surroundings.  There’s nothing and no one in their world, just the sound of two unsynced hearts desperately wishing, hoping, praying that, one day, they could figure out forever.  

“ _Kurt_.”  Blaine’s eyebrows furrow together.  He squints to keep the moisture in rather than flowing down his cheeks.  Kurt knows this; it’s the face he makes when he’s hiding his tears too.

“You know, I called you when he proposed, because you are still it for me, even if you weren’t physically there, even if you hadn’t been for years.  You’re always with me though, even now, and I hate that you didn’t know that and I’m so sorry I tried to just write you off like you’re nothing last night because I _really_ want to get over you because I should be able to, right?  So badly, I want to stop feeling so empty without you around.  Oliver means… he is nothing, besides someone who is not you, and I’m sorry he gave you a black eye for no reason.  I don’t even know why I’m compelled to tell you any of that.”

“It still feels like it’s over between us with no chance to make any of it better and I feel like I can’t ever have another chance because I was the asshole who left you in the first place.”  He pauses to catch his breath and he blushes when he sees Kurt’s distraught face.  

Kurt watches as Blaine tilts his head and takes him in.

“You are the love of my life, Kurt, and there’s no one else that will ever measure up to the love you gave me for four years of my life.  No pity party, pretty.  Stop.”  Blaine smiles and looks down at his hands.

There’s no one else in the room watching the conversation diligently.  Rachel’s not sobbing like she’s watching a daytime soap opera, and Burt is not grunting in agreement to every word they both say.  Santana definitely did not just open a bag of popcorn.

Kurt tilts his head and wipes his eyes, stepping closer into Blaine’s bubble.

“Hey.”  He leads Blaine gently by the small of his back to the couch so they can sit.  “We need to have this conversation as adults.  We’re just now getting this opportunity.”

Blaine nods and continues.  “It feels like… it just feels like I lost everything.”  He gasps but rushes the following statement, as if he doesn’t want Kurt to hear it at all.  “I feel like by losing you, I lost me too.”

Kurt freezes at the familiar words.  “Did you just… you found it.”

“Even your words are beautiful, Hummel.”  Blaine’s smirk resembles the one he used to give Kurt so many moons ago.

Kurt smiles immediately.  This interaction is so _Kurt and Blaine_.  “Not mine.  Taylor Swift’s.”

“Oh.”  Blaine lets out a small giggle; the most adorable glimpse into present-day Blaine that Kurt wishes he could see more of. 

“Yeah, oh.”  He nudges Blaine in the shoulder and smiles playfully.

“Listen.  If you don’t want me anymore, I’ll deal with that if it’s really true, but I want to make sure you’re okay.  Half of loving someone as much as I love you is the sacrifice of my own happiness if it makes you happy, and I’m willing to do that for you.  Because as much as I want you back, I want you to find you and I want to find myself again, and if that’s not together then maybe it’s for the best.  But I know you know that we are literally _lost_ without each other, Kurt, and I am here, in a city that actually gives me panic attacks, telling you wholeheartedly that I don’t want to go on knowing you’re out in the world with someone else.  I don’t know how I should try to survive that.  I will if I have to, and I have a feeling that I’ll have to, and in the grand scheme of things I’ve probably survived worse.”

“You should have thought-”

“I should have thought about that before I shut you out, before I moved across the country without you, yeah.  I learned the worst lesson of my life and it’s damn near fatal.  I made a mistake by shutting you out and not giving a fuck and taking you for granted, and I am so sorry for that.  The past two years have been the worst of my life and I’m just...  I didn’t mean to act like I didn’t need you.  I’ve always needed you.  I need you, Kurt, in any capacity.”

Kurt nods and wipes his eyes again.  He sees his own reflection in the shine of Blaine’s eyes, and he analyzes just how pitiful he looks.  He tilts his head, feeling like his stomach is dropping as though the sun is falling from the sky when Blaine closes his eyes and a single tear surfaces.

Kurt whispers.  “I need some time.”

“I miss you, Kurt.”

Kurt lets his breath stagger out, shaky and unstable in all its glory.  “Oliver’s supposed to come over.  I think… I think you need to go, for now.  Will you call me when you think it’s appropriate?  Maybe a few days, after you’ve settled back home?”

“Why can’t I just-”

“Please, B.  Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.  I need some time to fix everything and become the Kurt you know and love.”  He bites his lip and looks hopefully to Blaine.

“You’re kicking me out.”

“Only for right now, though, honey.  We’ll talk.  I promise you we’ll talk because I kind of need you too.”  He shrugs.

“My heart is yours, pretty.  Whatever and whenever you want.”

“Blaine.”

“I love you, pretty boy.”

Kurt nods.  “I know you do, B.”

Blaine turns away from him, trying to hold his composure as much as possible, but Kurt sees right through him.

“Hey guys.  I’m just gonna fly back… I have to- I’m sorry.”  He offers a sad smile and before any of Team Anderson can stop him, Blaine is gone.

Kurt stares at the slammed door. He peels his eyes away to cancel on Oliver through a text message.

**xK &Bx**

His déjà vu is definite, although he’s running from an entirely different pocket of the city and none of his surroundings are the same.  He stops on a random block, the Manhattan skyline haunting him in all its beautiful glory of what should be but isn’t and he books whatever flight he can get non-stop, first class to San Francisco.  He has a few hours to kill; he takes the subway into the city then strolls aimlessly and finds himself trying and failing to avoid the center of it all in the most populated, polluted area of New York – Times Square.  

He takes a seat on the top of the red steps in the middle of the party and watches.  The flashing lights to signify Broadway lives here, and the people bustling to make it to their dinners and their shows and their fun causes Blaine to crumble right there in the sea of civilization.

His entire world has collided directly into Hell itself and if rock bottom was bad five years ago with Kurt’s help, there’s nothing he can do now except leave the city that started the end of it at all, and never return.  

_So here’s everything coming down to nothing_   
_Here’s to silence that cuts me to the core_

He makes his way to the street where he hails a cab and disappears from the city of ruins.  

The leather of the cab’s back seat is ripped, as if someone took a key to it and slit it open out of sheer boredom.  The foam underneath is bleeding out all at once from just a miniscule incision.  He works at it to rip it open a few more inches as they venture over the bridge.  With the use of just his fingertips, he thoughtfully plays with it to find the metaphor buried within the chair of the minivan taxi.  He finds that each fiber separated in the leather further pulverizes the strings of his heart until there’s nothing but a clumpy mess of the seat’s intestines crumbling down into a dust between his hands.  

He sighs, stumbling out of the cab at JFK and walks into the airport with nothing but his wallet, a cell phone, and a foul-smelling outfit that’s been through the wringer in New York City.  Apparently that, with the fact that he bought a one-way ticket across the country an hour ago, is suspicious so he’s pulled aside for an extensive search to include every last crevice of his body.  To top off the absolute worst day of his life, the man working his fingers into every muscle before he’s allowed to board his plane home publicly molests him.

The six-hour adventure back to northern California is even more than painfully boring.  He’s felt all he can, his heart a numb and meaningless organ beating only for its own sake.  He’s slouched over, basking in the fact that he’s able to travel light this time, and he makes himself unnoticed as he glides between the crowds in San Francisco.  He finally gets back to his apartment after an experience in New York he’d prefer to just forget.

Kurt’s never been to his apartment before, but Blaine’s arrival back home finds it freezing cold not in the way of controllable temperature, but in the way of desolate emptiness.   

He falls backward onto his bed and stares at himself through his mirrored closet doors.  If he cries any more he’ll never stop so he turns his back on himself and cradles his head until he escapes into a slumber so thick, he’s basically comatose from a broken heart.  

**xK &Bx**

It’s been three days since he’s heard from Blaine, which is totally understandable if Kurt’s being real with himself; he wouldn’t have called him either if someone left it in his control to call when “appropriate.”  

But this isn’t someone.  This is Blaine.  He should have called by now.

Kurt looks into the screen of his laptop, his email up and waiting to be utilized, but he doesn’t actually see anything at all through the thick cloud of his thoughts hovering over his eyes.  He is back, enraptured in the memories of Blaine, the small details of the fantasy he has of them both getting their way, loving each other so fully, picking each other up right where they left off and metaphorically placing the other wholly on his feet.  He loves Blaine like Bonnie loved Clyde, as an act of survival together in this mad, mean, cruel world.  

A piece of spam mail dings him out of his trance and he goes forth with all of the administrative work it takes to run his second coffee shop.  Willa and Jonathan are managing the crowds out in the front, but with several hints of needing a few more regular employees.  He promises to post an ad for baristas, packs up his belongings and escapes to get ready for Oliver’s visit to his apartment.  He cancelled on Oliver the other night and again last night because he hasn’t been able to focus on anything except the aftermath of Blaine Anderson, so immediately rescheduling for tonight seemed like the right thing to do.  He hopes his brain doesn’t resort to Blaine again tonight.  He hopes he’s okay.

He walks home in a hypnotic state thinking about how each step of his life leads to the next monumental moment and he’s almost prepared for the rest of it on his own.  He goes home to prepare for his boyfriend’s arrival, changes, and patiently waits until the triple knock on the door wakes him from yet another trance of domestic fantasies revolving around Blaine Anderson.  He gets up and pads to the door, plastering a permanent smile on his face as he crosses the room.  Hopefully, his heart can catch up with his logic, and _soon_.

Sliding the door open and smiling, he greets Oliver.  “Hi!  Thanks for coming!”

“Hey.”  The kiss that follows is sloppy venom that’s nothing like the kisses he needs.  Oliver’s kisses sink into Kurt’s lips like lead, and unlike some others, Oliver’s lips do not fit perfectly with Kurt’s so Kurt must exert himself a bit extraordinarily in order for the slobber to land somewhere in the vicinity of his mouth and not so much on his chin.

“Come in.”  He opens the door further to let his… person that he’s dating into his apartment.  “No one is here.  It’s just us for now.  Drink?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

Kurt smiles at him and goes straight to the bottle of wine on his counter.  He reaches for two stemless glasses, pours until they are both half full, and walks them back to where Oliver sits patiently on the couch.

“So, I feel like I made a fool of myself.”

Kurt hands a glass to Oliver and smiles again, sitting down next to him.  “Mmm, we should probably talk about that, huh?  Blaine is just-”

“I meant the proposal.”  

_Oh._   “Oh.” 

Oliver takes a sip.  “You’re not going to marry me, are you?”

Kurt shakes his head.  “No, I’m not.  But if it makes you feel better, I’m not going to marry anyone.”

“Oh.  I didn’t know…”

Kurt shrugs.  “Why did you feel the need to punch my ex-boyfriend?”

“I saw the way he was looking at you and I got jealous.”

Kurt sighs.  He knows that Blaine is deeply affected by his every move, but he would have thought it had gone away by now.  Looking back, he’s not sure why he would have thought that Blaine would ever let go.  He makes a mental note to check in.  Although he put it in Blaine’s hands to reach out, there’s no rule against him making sure all is okay.

“Well… I’m not going to lie and tell you that he means nothing to me.  It ended badly a few years ago and I don’t think either of us ever truly let each other go.”

“Yeah, it seems like that.”  Oliver absently smoothes his pants, already perfectly wrinkle-free.  “Okay.”

Kurt smiles and places a small kiss on his lips before he pulls away shyly.  “I can’t delete my history with him.  He remains close to my family and we went through so much when we were together, so I doubt that I’ll never see him again; He’ll always just be _Blaine_ to me.  I think we’re going to try a friend thing now that we’re back in touch.”

“Kurt, I-”

Santana pushes the door open just in time to witness Kurt pulling himself closer to Oliver’s body and rolls her eyes at the scene taking place on the couch.  She stomps directly into her area and throws her curtain back into privacy-mode.  She hits play and there is electro-pop vibrating Kurt and Oliver to the core of their bodies.  

“If you ignore her, she goes away.”  Kurt pulls his boyfriend in for another kiss.  They make out to the sound of Yazoo and things could be worse.  

Santana stomps back out with a packed suitcase.  “I’m moving out.”

Oliver gets up and off of Kurt, looking entirely put off that Santana’s ruined their privacy.

Santana blinks and turns to Kurt.  “I’m moving because I’m boycotting the idea of you with anyone else.  Call me childish, meddling, but you and I both know what’s right for you.  I’ll be at Blaine’s when you’re ready to get your head out of your ass.”

Kurt feels the words as a bullet straight into the muscle of his heart.  

“Um.  Should I go?”  Oliver snaps him out of his trance.

“What?  No.  No, it’s okay.  She’s just in a mood… Blaine’s her best friend and you know he was just here.  She’ll be back.  Um… do you want to go out to dinner somewhere or something tonight?”

Santana huffs and leaves faster than she came.

Oliver preens for a second and nods.  “Let’s go somewhere special, to celebrate us.”

“That sounds like an awesome idea.”

They choose a place in the West Village that they’ve both openly mentioned wanting to try, and if Kurt is totally depressed for the rest of the night because of both Blaine and Santana, then Oliver doesn’t notice at all.

**xK &Bx**

When Kurt returns from his dinner and Oliver goes home, he climbs into bed and stares at the ceiling.  He wonders if Blaine is still in New York now and fears that his sleeping schedule will be interrupted by the simple knowledge of both of them in the same city but depressingly separate.  Kurt should suck it up and call him but quickly opts to call Burt instead; he would know where Blaine is.  Besides, he hasn’t heard from Burt since he left the city the day after Blaine did and he’s worried, as his dad usually calls when he returns home.

He plays with the phone in his hand, twirling it up and over around his fingers a few times until he throws it down on the bed.  He sits, sighs, and picks it up again.  Inhaling deeply, he hits his dad’s dedicated row on the “favorites” screen and patiently waits for the call to connect.  

He hopes it goes to voicemail, but he assumes it won’t.  At the third ring, Kurt takes another deep breath, preparing himself to leave a message when Burt does finally answer, a bit out of breath as if he ran to the phone.  

“Kurt, hi bud.  I meant to call you when I got home, but thought maybe you could use some time off from all the bullying we’ve all been putting you through.  I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, Dad.  I’m just checking in, I deserved the tough love.  I’m…” Kurt trails off, unsure what he was trying to say in the first place.  “Dad.”

“I know, Kurt.”  Kurt’s dad always knows.  

This is his cue to cry.  He sobs on behalf of Blaine Anderson, someone who had always wanted to keep Kurt happy but fell apart at the worst possible time.  

Burt stays quiet for a few minutes, accustomed to the diva sessions.  “Kurt, buddy, come on.  Take a deep breath.  Do you need me back in New York?”

“No, no.  I’m okay.  I’m so sorry I disappointed you, Dad.”

“You only disappointed me because you were being selfish and cruel on purpose to someone you love deeply, even if you can’t admit it anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to _me_ , kid.”

The silence is there to let Kurt’s dad know that he’s not going to apologize to Blaine.  “I have to let him go, Dad.”  There’s a beat.  “Is he okay?”

“He’s… he’ll be okay.”

“He’s still in New York?”

“He went home, Kurt.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.  I don’t know what he considers home anymore.”

“He’s in San Francisco.”

A minute goes by before Kurt speaks again.  “Okay.  Okay, I have to go Dad.  I’ll call soon.  Love you.”  He ends the call before his dad can say anything further.  

Blaine’s return to California is good news; it’s proof that Blaine is distancing himself and listening to Kurt’s suggestions of trying to move forward with his life instead of sticking to the past and regretting any ancient decisions.

If Blaine’s return to California is such good news, Kurt can’t help but wonder why he feels empty and disconnected now that he knows Blaine is gone.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_August_

“I think he’s trying to break some sort of world record.”

“There’s no other reasonable explanation, unless-”

“Kindly shut the fuck up.  I’m right here.”  Blaine whips his head around to glare at Jimmy and Steve, the couple he loves to hang out with but hates to see together.  

They remind him of the good times with Kurt.  

He latches his hands to the hips of the boy situated in front of him and pulls him back tighter and more possessively.  He starts to suck at his neck.

“Seriously, B.  This is what?  Number five of the night?”

Blaine sighs.  “Only one gets to come home, though.”

At that, the guy receiving all the pleasure turns around in his arms.  “Can we go?”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me, baby.”  Blaine pushes him away.  “Have a lovely evening.”  He stalks toward the bar, fully aware that Jimmy and Steve are trailing him intently.  He orders a drink from the bartender and leans against the lip of the bar waiting for it.  He smiles when he sees Jimmy do the same, except slotted between his legs is Steve.  “You guys are disgustingly in love.  Get out of my face.”

Jimmy laughs.  “Come on, man!”

“I think you’d make a great serious boyfriend, Blaine.  Underneath the armor, that is.”  Steve smiles.  “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“I have.”  _I am._   “Then it was over and it hurt a lot.  So I’d rather… not.  Again.”  Blaine rolls his eyes and takes a long swig of his beer.

“Shut the fuck up.  _You’ve_ had a serious boyfriend?”  Jimmy seems astounded; definitely impressed that Blaine had ever been able to commit to more than one night.

“Yep.”

“Elaborate, asshole.”

“There’s not much to say.”  There’s so much to say.  Blaine tries to keep it short. He can’t allow himself to think about Kurt for too long. “I met him when I was in high school.  He’s um, a lot older than me and we… moved in together during my senior year, we moved to New York together when I got into college there.  Now, I’m here and he’s there.”

“What happened?”  Steve wonders out loud.  

Blaine really doesn’t want to talk about it.  “New York is poisonous.”

“Wait, so when you were in New York a few weeks ago…”

“His current boyfriend proposed to him.  I was there trying to convince him to take me back.”

“Didn’t work?”

“Didn’t work.”  Blaine takes the rest of his beer in his mouth, swishes, and swallows.

Steve sighs.  “Come on, honey.  We’ll find you a nice fuck for tonight.”

Blaine laughs.  “Thanks.”

**xK &Bx**

_September_

It’s still practically summer, but it is undoubtedly pumpkin season in New York for Kurt and the coffee shop.  It takes everything in him not to call Blaine home if only for the opportunity of his own, personal focus group with an added bonus of a possible reconciliation.  He was so used to that when they were together, always testing new recipes on Blaine – the ultimate coffee enthusiast.  

Blaine never called, so Kurt can only imagine it’s not yet “appropriate.”  He still has hope… he has to.

Kurt is emerged back into his routine from Lima, waking at five forty-five almost every single morning for the sake of yet another coffee shop.  If he allows himself to think hard enough about it, he’s unsure how he’s supposed to feel about having a routine without Blaine to wake up next to; he still can’t get used to it.  Every morning of waking up alone is just proof that they have drastically drifted, and one day they’ll both wake and feel nothing.  That’s the day that it’ll have all been unworthy.  

He sits up in bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and grabs his phone to shut the alarm off.  A vivid dream that comes back into focus proves that he shouldn’t sleep alone, and shows him exactly what he subconsciously thinks of himself:  terrible, unforgiving, selfish.  He wants to make a change and knows exactly who he wants to change for, but it is unfortunately not the right time just yet.

Kurt’s been thinking about the quality of a person a lot lately.  The “easier said than done” act of forgiveness exists to remain decent in a world of fucked up mistakes and fine, maybe the people who make them can’t always control it because they’re so overwhelmed with the reasons of why they might have been put in that situation to do wrong in the first place.  He realizes now that Blaine is the one person he can’t live without but not yet as a boyfriend, as a person in his life at any other capacity.  He knows that Blaine made a mistake not so much in leaving, but not discussing it with Kurt first and although he frequently wonders how he could have left him that way, he does need some sort of deeper explanation, even if it’s two full years after the event.  They are unfortunately exes for a reason and if there’s any chance of achieving happiness with one another again, Kurt’s plan is to start over and go slow and ask for the truth.

He sighs, nodding to himself and officially deciding that he’ll decipher the details of the stupid, reoccurring dream later – when he doesn’t have to think about anything else in the world for a while and when he doesn’t need to retreat to the front of the shop to say a quick hello to his regular customers and help his coffee team with whatever they need.  He stops for milk on the way; he prefers to buy the dairy products in small batches a few times a week instead of a larger supply to get them through.  He thrives on the greatest quality supplies he can find and this used to bleed into his relationships.  It’s only the best of the best for Kurt Hummel, always.

God, he wishes the best version of Blaine were here to help him with _life_ ; they always made such a great team and to be frank, he’s been missing him so much lately.  He wants to make it better with him but he’s unsure if it will all be considered a black hole of despair if they both try and fail again.  He can’t go through a breakup of that magnitude twice; he’d never survive it.

Unlike the diner he left behind in Manhattan after Blaine left _him_ in Manhattan, the new Lima Bean is located in Bushwick and is a business he owns solely because he wants to, not because he promised a competitive salary to Santana to coerce her to move to New York again.  It’s a warm, honey-colored brick building that Kurt was able to afford with his profit from selling the diner only out of heartbreak, keeping the profit and not giving a damn about it at the time.  In lieu of lyrics on each glittered table this time, Kurt opted for dried flowers pressed behind the glass overlay of each chic, black table spread throughout the shop.  Naturally, each flower means something to him.  He places Calla Lilies in memory of his mother, clovers for Finn, and Bleeding Hearts, of course, for his Blaine.  They’re all arranged differently under each pane of glass and the best part is that no one in the entire world knows why each flower is there outside of decoration.  Kurt always has a deeper meaning to everything, and he always thinks out each detail of his shops, as demonstrated back in Lima, at the diner, and now at the new Brooklyn Bean in New York City.

He pushes ruthlessly at the door with his shoulder, struggling to keep it open for the prolonged time it takes to step through it.

_Don’t you know that you’re all I think about?_   
_You make up a half of the whole._

“Hey, boss!  How’s it going?”  Willa smiles with a sleeve of thermal cups in her hands.

“Hey, Willa.  Keeping everyone in check?”  Kurt smiles at the girl.  To be frank, Willa was only hired because he had a great feeling about her, although she doesn’t have any coffee experience.  She’s a natural-born leader and can be trusted as much as Julie back in Lima.  It’s just an added bonus that she’s not only been hitting it off fabulously with him, but also with Santana.  As much as Santana hates Kurt right now for re-breaking Blaine’s heart, he’s always wanted her to find someone she can be herself around.  He thinks that maybe Willa can be her person as Blaine is Kurt’s.  _Was_.  

Business is truly taking off in Brooklyn, but nothing Santana can’t handle… should Kurt decide to run away for a while.  It surely helps that there are no coffee shops in the immediate area; Starbucks hasn’t been able to get in and take over just yet, so he believes he has at least a year of true monopolization.  Plus, it’s a great distraction to everything else that’s been happening in his life, although it never fails to remind him of Blaine.  If he looks up at the table for two closest to the big window in the front of the building, he can almost see a seventeen-year-old boy crowding a notebook and a glued-down, glittered “reserved” sign.  

The art of the coffee business is something he enjoys, sure; it’s something he’s actually good at, and an industry he doesn’t mind being devoted to.  He loves the craft of coffee-making and because he met Blaine in the midst of all of this, he tries to keep him out of his mind as he attempts to build the second Lima Bean up from the bottom – something he was never able to do with the original as it already had a following by the time he was given control.  It’s New York he’s not sure of.

“Okay.  Paperwork.  I’ll be in the back if you guys need me.  When Santana gets here, let her know I’m in the back.”

**xK &Bx**

It’s been an excruciating time in Blaine’s heart.  He’s started to feel closer to normal in this time, though, and he’s working hard on the concept of distraction.  He studies too much.  He reads thick novels for fun even when he doesn’t have time for it.  He’s taken up running.  He’s actually training for a marathon; it’s something to keep a routine going and helps relieve the stress.  He fucks almost daily, and now that Jimmy and Steve know about Kurt, they help with the recruiting process.  There is still a void that he’s unsure he’ll ever see leave his body, but like any loss, it’s gotten easier with time.

There are still times that the ache in his chest is unbearable, times when he cries himself to sleep because of the terrible damage to his heart, times when he doesn’t bother to get out of bed because it all hurts too much.  Today is one of those days.  He’s been trying to focus on all in his life that is awesome, but he can’t seem to fool himself into authentic contentment.  He seeks out help from the only person (besides Kurt) that might be able to cheer him up a bit.  

**_Blaine:  Burt.  You around?_ **

Not more than two seconds later, Burt’s face lights up Blaine’s iPhone and he can’t help but smile.  

“Hey.”

“I haven’t heard from you.  You’ve been okay?”

“I know, I’m really sorry.  I just…”  Blaine breaks for a sigh.  “I’m sorry.”

“You never have to explain to me, Blaine.  You sound…”

“I’m okay.  Trying to distract myself; it’s been a weird couple of weeks, like the breakup happened all over again.”  There’s a pause in Blaine’s breathing.  “Today is not the best day.”

“I know you’re sad, kid.  Things happen like this all the time and you don’t know why yet, but I bet you will soon.  There’s a reason for all of this.”

Blaine scoffs.

“Maybe it’s to make your bond stronger for if you do decide to get back together.”

“I doubt that.  He’s okay?”

“He will be, and so will you.  Now, when are you coming home for a visit?  You were just here but Carole misses you.”  

“Are you sure that’s okay?  If Kurt… I mean, I’d love to but-”

“Look, bud.  I know it seems like it’s the end of the world right now, but please know that you always have a home here.  For every holiday too, regardless of my _other_ son coming home during that time and regardless of whatever you two are destined to be.  Do you understand?”

Blaine whispers.  “Yeah.”

“So when should I expect you, then?”

Blaine laughs.  “Umm, well.  I get out of class on Thursday at two California time, but I could probably skip that if there’s an earlier flight.  Email you the details?”  

“That’s my boy.  Love you, kid.”

“Love ya too.  Say hi to Carole.”

“Will do.”  There’s a click.  Blaine smiles as he opens his laptop to write his next piece for class; he gets through it hardly even thinking about just how terrible his life seems and navigates to the JetBlue website to book a flight home to Burt’s house.  At least he has something to look forward to.

**xK &Bx**

Thursday comes quickly, and Blaine finds himself on the curbside of the Columbus Airport _again_ , waiting for Burt to pick him up.  It’s late, but a beautiful summer night that he can’t get enough of.  The light breeze is invigorating and he might be a little tipsy from the free drinks in first class.  He’s had more than a few to feel it; he’s worked up his tolerance since saying goodbye to Kurt.  

He feels so empty, waiting here for his ex-lover’s father’s truck to show up at the airport.  Had he not had to fly to Columbus today, it would have been one of those days that he didn’t get out of bed because it hurt too much, but he thinks it might have been one of those days _because_ he had to get on a plane that brought him back to a place that suffocates him in Kurt-related memories.  Ohio has never been his favorite place to spend any amount of time, but he’s been back more than once now for the sake of the Hummels, and he’d agree with anyone when they say that there must be a valid reason why he can’t seem to stay away from a place that nearly killed him.  It’s a damn bearable reason at that; it’s family. 

He has no choice but to text Kurt; he knows his body won’t be able to resist so he might as well get it over with.

**_Blaine:  Hey pretty.  Hope you’re doing well… I’m just thinking about you as usual and hope you have a good day._ **

He doesn’t expect a response and certainly not right away, but this doesn’t stop him from clicking on the home screen every few seconds to see if the “typing” icon is up on Kurt’s text message window.  It never is.

Burt’s truck comes rolling in, swerving up toward him before it stops completely.  Blaine flings his bag into the back and jumps up into the seat.  

“Hey.”  Every time he looks into Burt’s eyes, he sees Kurt.  He grimaces at the comparison and looks down, pretending to check his phone for anything he might have missed while he was on the plane, but really just staring at the text message application, willing for it to come back to life.  

“What’s up bud?”

Blaine smiles.  He’s home, at least in the physical sense.  

He doesn’t mind the quick visit.  He’s been back a few times since they’ve broken up, but this is the first time since it’s been truly _over_ , and he’s pushing the feeling of emptiness in Burt’s truck as far away as possible because he really wants to just enjoy time with the people who might as well be his parents.  

“You good?”

He wrings and tangles his own fingers with his other hand and smiles again.  “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?  That’s what Kurt’s telling people who ask, too.”

“Mmmm.”

“It’s good to see you, Blaine.  Really, I worry about you.”

“I’m okay.  Actually, what do you think about me going to see my mom, maybe Saturday?”

“She knows you’re here?”

“No...  I don’t know, I’m still playing with the idea.  She’s still my mom, you know?”

Burt nods.  “I hear ya.  If you want to, then you should.”

Small talk fills the car ride back from the airport, and when they get back to the house in Lima, Blaine says hi to Carole quickly and goes straight to bed.  He doesn’t realize he’s cuddling Kurt’s old pillow until his scent assaults his nostrils in all the wrong ways.  He cries himself to sleep in the middle of Kurt’s old bed they once shared and never will again.  
    
**xK &Bx**

That text message last night threw Kurt for a loop.  He didn’t know how to react, so he doesn’t until he can formulate some sort of action plan of how to deal with it all.  It is times like these that he wishes he could just reiterate his undying love for Blaine.

It’s like Blaine read his mind in that stupid text message.  Blaine is all he’s been thinking about as of late, and it’s getting really annoying.

Kurt’s life has made him crazy with the coffee shop and getting to know his current fling a bit better, but these are all well deserved and perfectly placed distractions.  His Oliver-related struggle is wearing him thin because of the dreadful comparison forever in the back of his mind.  Every time Oliver looks at him is a painful reminder that Blaine is out there somewhere without him.  He feels as though nothing will ever be as good as Blaine again, and he finds himself constantly measuring him up against Oliver, a poisonous mindset to trap him with his settling heart.  This has the power to ruin his entire future with anyone, and he already feels his edges fraying knowing that the constant comparison will do just that.  Regardless of his booked schedule and constant nights on the town trying to force himself into living life to the fullest with his boyfriend, Kurt is sure to find time every night before he wastes away into sleep to think about this friendship he wants to convince Blaine into.  He simply hasn’t gotten over Blaine because he doesn’t want to, whether he realizes that on a subconscious level or not.

He does need a plan, though.  He misses his dad, and Carole, and fuck… even Ohio, sometimes.  He misses the way he used to feel there; he misses the happiness flowing through his veins at the mere thought of Blaine Anderson and how they both somehow didn’t mind Lima as soon as they were there together.  Now, it’s all a venomous escape from a personal prison cell with a lock and a lost key, and a clear reason why he hasn’t been back in such a long time…the memories are excruciating.  

It’s been a few weeks since he last heard from virtually anyone back home and it’s right smack in the middle of Friday night dinner, something he wishes he could still see regularly in person.  He should take a weekend sometime soon.  He should move back home.  He should escape Oliver, who hardly makes him happy because he’s not Blaine, and he should escape New York and go home.

He is pointedly distracted for a few more minutes finishing up a mindless task relating to the business of running a coffee shop, but he makes a point to call before it gets too late.

**xK &Bx**

“Hello?”  

“Hey Dad!  What’s up?”

“Kiddo!  Where the hell have you been?  I know I’m supposed to give a grown son some space, but shit.”  Burt looks at Blaine and Carole dropping the cookies onto a cookie sheet and quietly leaves the kitchen, hoping he goes unnoticed.  

“I’ve been busy.  Spending more time with Oliver and at the coffee shop.  It’s gotten really busy.”  

“Burt!  No phone during Friday night dinners.  Come on, you made that rule, now abide by it!”  Burt watches Blaine enter the room, grinning ear to ear as he walks into the living room with cookie dough hands but his face falls when two plus two equals four and it’s clear as day that Burt is talking to Kurt.

“Dad?  Is that _Blaine_?”

Burt looks directly at Blaine and mouths his apology.  “Yeah, yeah Kurt.  It’s Blaine.  He came home for the weekend.”

“He came home for the… okay.  I’m just gonna go.  You have a lovely time with my ex-boyfriend, then.”

“Kurt, come on.  Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?  Hurt, pissed off because all of my family and every single one of my friends chose him over me?  Santana hasn’t said a word to me since Blaine left New York.  She leaves me notes and sends me emails when she has something to say about the coffee shop and not a breath more about anything else.”

“Hey, you know I’m not choosing and neither is Santana, I’m sure.  I told you and Blaine both years ago that I will not be put in the middle of whatever problems you two have.”

Blaine hurries back into the kitchen, and Burt knows he’s blaming himself thinking he’s causing problems with everyone Kurt loves.  

Kurt is usually a rational man; Burt certainly made sure to bring him up as a boy who will listen to both sides of any story before deciding on an opinion.  He usually thinks before he speaks, considering any possible consequence before he allows words out of his mouth.  He’s undoubtedly in touch with the power of words, the power of talking to someone, of communication that he is especially careful of when he’s speaking with the people he loves, the people that love him back.  Burt can sense that it’s a perfect day for Kurt to vocalize his true feelings and he can tell that his son is hesitating on his words, thinking them through completely so not to hurt any feelings; he can almost physically see the effort come to a heed right in the center of his son’s head.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt speaks not from his mouth, his teeth and lips and tongue not contributing at all to this conversation he demands to have with his ex-boyfriend.  All of these words are about to spew up and out, directly from his heart.  Now is his chance; it’s now or never.  He didn’t plan for this, but hell if he lets this fateful opportunity slip through his fingers.  

“Actually, put him on the phone, Dad.”

As expected: “Kurt, please don’t make a spectacle of this.  He’s just home for a visit with people he considers family.”

“I know that.  I just want to talk to him; I came to what one might call an epiphany about him recently and I need to tell him about it.  It’s not bad, I promise.  I’ve just been thinking about him, and just… please put him on the phone?  Don’t you love me, Dad?”

Burt sighs dramatically into the phone.  “Hang on.”

There’s a muffle and a hand over the microphone of Burt’s cell phone, what seems to be an exchange of handsets, and then a strong inhale and exhale. 

“Um, hello?”

“I’m jealous you get Friday night dinner this weekend.”   There’s a teasing quality to Kurt’s voice and he hopes to God Blaine can pick up on it.  

He does.  

“Jealous enough to jump on a plane?  Come see me in Ohio, pretty boy.”

“Don’t push your luck, beautiful.”  Blaine’s breath hitches and maybe Kurt’s gone too far.  “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Not gonna lie, B.  It’s kinda weird you’re in Ohio without me.”

“It’s weird being here without you.  I’d rather be wherever you are.”  There’s a beat.  “How are you?”

“Mmm.  I guess I’ve been better.”  It’s the truth.  They’ve never lied to each other, why start now?

“Me too.”  
    
“So what are you doing there anyway?”

“I don’t know, Burt thought I could use a visit.  I needed the break.”

“Uh huh, and did he think I might need family time?  Should I just take up Christian Anderson as my father and we can call it an even swap?”  Kurt’s plans are going bottom-up.  He can’t help but feel a ting of jealousy striking like lightning through his veins.

“ _Kurt_.”

“No, Blaine.  Tell me how this should work because in my experience, when two people break up, they sever ties with everyone else, too.”  Kurt feels himself ranting on but can’t connect words to his brain, demanding it to stop.  He can’t stop.

“Why did you want to talk to me so bad?  Why the fuck are you being such a fucking dick?”

The silence answers enough of the question.  _Because I can._   Blaine continues.

“I’m not giving up my friends or the people I consider my family because you decided to wake up on the wrong side of the fucking bed again today, Kurt.  I left you because I don’t fucking know why, and I know I’ll never be able to live that one down.  But you never got over me and that’s not my problem, especially when I go to New York to get you back and you still want nothing to do with me.  I’m still trying to get over it all myself, but until then...  God, Kurt.  What the hell are we doing?”

“You made me fall in love with you in the first place!  We wouldn’t be in this position if I just… stayed guarded and now I’m the idiot who’s entirely ruined because of you!  You were the lost little teenager who couldn’t find his way without my help, and now I’ve resorted back into the stupid little lost boy I was before you.  A lost, good-for-nothing, piece of shit who will never be happy again.”

“No, asshole!  We fell in love mutually and it was the best three and a half years of my life.  What, which one of your shitty boyfriends is better than me, then?  Huh?”

“Fuck you, Blaine.  I loved you in a way I had never loved before, and it was _not_ my fault that you had so many fucking issues that I couldn’t keep up with the walls constantly being built up and torn down in the same ten fucking minutes.  Please take a hint and get the fuck out of my life for good this time.”  There’s a beat; Kurt inhales.  “I wanted to get on the phone because I thought that it would be good for us, but apparently not.”

“Well, I’m sorry I was never fucking good enough for you and your ridiculously high standards!”

“You were perfect for me, Blaine!  Don’t give me that shit, you know we were perfect together.”

“You’re the one who didn’t try to convince me to stay.  I’m here now, visiting my family whether you like it or not.  And as for Burt suggesting I come home this weekend, you know I’ve never had an easy time feeling accepted into any family, including my own, so I waited for the invitation.  You know you’re always invited.  If shit is hard in New York, all you have to do is get on a plane for an hour and come home.  I’m trying to heal myself here… I don’t know if you forgot, but the love of my life told me he didn’t want anything to do with me three weeks ago, so I’m still trying to figure that out, and I think it might be possible with the help of _our_ family.”

Kurt shifts the phone to his other ear, cowering into himself and crossing his arms as if he’s guarding himself from Blaine’s accusing words.  He focuses on the curve of his own wrist as he whispers words he doesn’t truly mean to say.  “I wish I didn’t love you anymore.”

Blaine’s silence is proof that he’s trying to pick himself up, if only to appear strong for whatever’s coming his way next.

Kurt calms down, inhaling and exhaling a few times to slow his heartbeat.  “Half of me hates you so much for leaving me alone with no rational explanation… but God, then I hear your voice, and you’re fighting right back and standing up to me, and fuck Blaine… you’re challenging me like no one else in my life ever does.  Those are the times when I miss you the most.”

Blaine’s whisper strains Kurt’s ear.  “Do you really wish you didn’t love me?”

“Of course I don’t, honey.  I’m so sorry I said that… I don’t regret a second with you, only the ones without you.”

Blaine huffs.  “I accidentally slept in your bed last night, you know.”

“How does one _accidentally_ sleep in someone else’s bed, B?”  Kurt half-laughs; he’s not sure what to think of that.

“I don’t know.  I got home late and just kind of… followed instinct, I guess.  I didn’t even realize until I smelled you on the pillows.”  Blaine sounds so small all because of the presence of Kurt’s scent hitting his nostrils. “Jesus, that sounds so… I’m such a pathetic stalker.”  There’s a beat.  Blaine continues.  “I’ve been thinking of taking a ride out to see my mom tomorrow.”

Kurt gets caught up in the sound of Blaine’s voice; they haven’t spoken amicably in so long that it puts him in a trance of sorts, reminiscing every word that’s been said to him since they got together.  He doesn’t realize that he hasn’t responded to Blaine’s words.

“Well.  It was good talking to you.”

Kurt snaps out of it.  “Sorry!  I was just... listening to you.”

“Huh?”

“Your words, your voice.  It’s nice to hear it… calm and collected.  I think we had to get those things out in the open, yeah?”  Kurt smiles sadly at the image that must be Blaine right now.  He’d bet a hundred grand that he’s pacing and running his fingers through his curls, grimacing and praying that the next words out of Kurt’s mouth aren’t going to hurt too badly.  “Honey, I think it’s a good idea to get back in touch with your mom.  But I’m conflicted.  I don’t want to push you away because I really do think it’s great you found a family in mine, despite what I just said to you.  But it’s also good to be in touch with yours.  Cooper tells me you don’t talk to him often and you guys are only a few hours away.  Are you pushing away from everyone?  Are you punishing yourself for some reason?”

“No, I… I’ve just been busy.”  Kurt’s not sure if this is a lie, but his conversations with Cooper usually leave both of them worried.

“I don’t want to throw away our history and I do still want to know you.  I don’t know how to fix this, but I do know that I shouldn’t have said those things I said to you when we last saw each other, and just now over the phone, and I’m really sorry.”

“You can’t say goodbye to me forever and then demand your father hands me the phone three weeks later because you feel the need to say _nevermind_.  My heart can’t take this, Kurt.  I feel like it’s going to combust.”

“ _Blaine_.”

“No, please.  I can’t do this.  I have to go.  I’ll get in touch with my mom and that’ll be that.”

“Blaine, stop!  That’s not what I’m saying!  It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“I really have to go, Kurt.  Please, God, let me go.”

“Is that what you really want?”  Kurt is speaking on a larger level now.  He hopes Blaine is, too.

Kurt can hear Blaine’s voice crack when he says his name, and that’s what really twists the knife.  “Kurt.”  Blaine’s never said his name like it’s pained him before.

“Blaine.”

“I’m being terribly rude to your parents.”

“It would not be the first time.”

“Kurt, baby… I need to go.  We’ll talk, whenever you’re free, we’ll talk.  But I have to go now before I start crying alone in your living room.  Okay?  We’ll talk later.  Promise.”  Kurt hears the click; it’s the first time Blaine’s ever hung up on him.

Kurt can hardly breathe.  “Shit!”

**xK &Bx**

Blaine walks back into the kitchen, juggling Burt’s cell phone and squinting his eyes, clearly thinking too hard.  It looks like he can set the world on fire with the smoke coming out of his ears.  

“Good conversation, kiddo?”

“Kurt and I are… no.”  Blaine shrugs.  “I have no idea, it feels over.” 

Carole laughs at the joke but when Blaine looks at her she stops immediately.  “Oh.  Seriously?  Oh, honey.”

“No pity please.”

“Alright!”  Burt sits down and claps his hands once, rubbing them together as Carole brings over the food for tonight – pleasantly presented but probably less than awesome tuna filet, garlic and onion brussel sprouts, and wild rice risotto.  _Carole tries._   

“Help yourselves, boys.”  Carole swings back to the refrigerator for cans of Coke and balances three of them within three glasses, filled halfway with ice.

Blaine is admittedly in a foul mood.  There’s nothing he can do about it, and he wouldn’t hide it if he could.  He doesn’t miss the questioning looks Carole and Burt exchange when they think he’s not watching.  Those hurt the most.

**xK &Bx**

They finish dinner as a family and go their separate ways after.  Blaine mentions that he’s going to borrow the Navigator because he wants to go see some friends.  His actual plan is to reconcile with his mother, even if that means tiptoeing back into the closet.  He doesn’t want to make Kurt mad and he knows he needs to say goodbye to Burt and Carole; he just wishes that he didn’t let his guard down enough for this to really hurt.

As he drives toward and then past the Lima Bean, he attempts only happy thoughts.  The conversation with Kurt, the first in so long, only proves to Blaine that he sort of doesn’t care about him at all anymore.  As depressing as this is, it’s what pushes Blaine to visit his mom, although as he continues to drive toward the neighborhood he used to live in, he is distracted by thoughts of how he is his own support system and maybe he doesn’t need his mom either.  He’s prepared to do all of this on his own.

Blaine can’t stop thinking about Kurt’s harsh words though, even if he seemed to calm down toward the end of the conversation.  He furrows his brow and wonders what it’s like to be Kurt Hummel, this pseudo-monster he’s turned into that doesn’t have a care in the world for anyone but himself.  As difficult as it is, he decides to take a penny from Kurt’s cup; he’ll try to model himself after what he used to be for the sake of saving his own feelings.  It’s just not fair and he misses who Kurt used to be so much; he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He takes the turn onto Anderson Hill Road too sharply for a large SUV and the world stops as he slams on his brakes mid-turn, barely missing a soccer ball bouncing in the middle of the street and a young boy running after it carelessly.  He swerves sharply to avoid the boy but cuts the wheel too quickly.  He watches the blur of his body flip within the car, catching the detail of each control on the radio, the blue glow of the interface on the GPS module, the crumble and crack of metal hitting the street one side at a time.  His eyes shift, slower than molasses, as he comes out of his soul and he’s above himself watching the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree flip from fifty feet in the sky.  Ears are ringing and his head is bleeding and the pressure he feels at his hairline is overwhelming, so much so that he might need to pass out.  The shattering of the driver’s side window crystallizes like snowflakes and he watches intently as each shred of glass flies in every direction at impact to the ground.  His seatbelt tightens across his chest as it locks and the airbags explode in slow motion; he can count to six before they’re inflated completely.  There’s a stinging sensation in his forehead, and his arm hits the street below him and he doesn’t want to move his neck for fear of being paralyzed.  He feels his legs lodged between the steering wheel and… something else.  He’s somehow on his side but still in the car and the world is spinning.  Suddenly, the paramedics are there to talk him through some sort of process that he can’t really pay attention to because all he’s thinking is _Kurt_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Hey, everyone! Hope you're liking the fic so far. See below for the playlist in order for this story, per an anonymous request. Enjoy!

[Give It All Away: In Order](http://open.spotify.com/user/nikknyc/playlist/37fdkkpOyG1Zy5N0J56UmY)

Kurt throws his overnight bag down on the ground of the terminal and dials the phone number the car rental company gave him for when he arrives.  He tucks his cell phone into the nook between his ear and shoulder as it rings and slings the bag back over his shoulder, clearly exhausted from having just endured a painful, last-minute, middle-seated flight.  His flight to Ohio felt like a million years; he couldn’t get Blaine’s well being out of his head the entire time and because of that, he found himself restless.  He hurries through the airport after he informs the car rental company that he has landed, cursing his life and making a vow to never fly Delta ever again if he can help it – the planes are just uncomfortable.

As he approaches the exit for Lima in the tiny Honda Civic he’s rented, he works out a story in his head to convince the hospital he should see Blaine right away.  He smirks at the memory of a fucked-up little boy, five years ago, lying about marriage just to sit next to Kurt after his attack.  He thinks about the insane routine Blaine forced himself to adapt to while Kurt was recovering and because of it, Kurt healed easily.  He plans to do exactly this for Blaine now with the roles reversed.

“Husband, Blaine’s my husband.  I’m here to see my husband, Blaine Anderson… Hummel.  Blaine Hummel-Anderson?  Shit!”  He says it out loud, practicing, but can hardly stop himself from choking on the words.  He’s breaking down and no one is there to hold him steady.  He gives up, hitting the power button on the radio.  He loses himself in the music.  

Sprinting from the parking garage to the emergency room in what feels like three seconds flat, Kurt is entirely unsure if he even shut the car off.  He swings his body into the waiting room, catching the countertop with his hands to prevent his feet from continuing down the hall in search of his Blaine.  His Blaine, who he singlehandedly pushed away, thus causing him to seek love in a mother who has never shown any interest.  His Blaine, who is now laid up in the very same hospital Kurt was placed in all because they love each other.  Why does every demon have to focus on only bringing them down?  Kurt’s sure this is Christian Anderson’s fault somehow.

“H-Hi.”  He takes a deep breath and smiles faintly at the woman sitting in front of him.  “I’m here… I’m Kurt Hummel, to see Blaine.”  He tries to catch his breath.  “Blaine Anderson, my-” Saliva gets stuck on his tongue and he feels bile at the back of his throat.  He swallows.  “Husband.  Blaine’s my husband.  Where is he?”

“Mister…”

“Hummel… and also Anderson.  Hummel-Anderson.  I’m Kurt Hummel-Anderson.”  It _does_ have a nice ring to it.

“Mister Hummel-Anderson.  Your mother-in-law asked for absolutely no visitors.  She is to be the only one back there with him.”

Kurt stumbles back, blinking furiously and trying to decipher the words that are being said to him.  There’s no way Blaine’s mother cares enough about him to dictate who can and cannot visit.  This has to do with Kurt specifically.

“Yeah.  It appears we don’t particularly get along too well.”

“I’m sorry.  If you could just take a seat-”

“Excuse me.  Blaine is my husband and I have every right to see him.”  Does he, as one half of a same-sex marriage, have the right to see his pseudo-husband within Ohio state borders?  Kurt’s not sure but still, he continues.  “I will be seeing him, regardless of what that witch said about me.”

“She said no visitors, sir.  Especially…” The receptionist cuts herself off, most probably deeming the sentence Blaine’s mother spat out earlier in the afternoon inappropriate beyond all ethical laws and suggestions.

“Uh huh.  And do you value your job?”

“Mister Ander-”

“Or would this hospital prefer a lawsuit regarding a gay man being refused his rights to see his husband, then?  I will _own_ you, little girl.  And when I’m your boss, I have a concrete rule directly pertaining to homophobia.”

“No, sir, I-”

“What did she give you?”

“Sir, I-”

Kurt removes whatever cash he has from his wallet and hands it to the woman.  “What room is my husband in?”

She types frantically on the computer laid out in front of her.  “220, sir.  Around the corner on the right.”  Kurt watches as she presses a button that enables the automatic doors to open and he takes off around the corner and to the right.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt can’t believe the rush of feelings slamming into his heart, now that he can see with his own eyes that Blaine is alive.  All the air deflates out of his lungs and he thanks whatever lucky stars are with him as he witnesses the rise and fall of Blaine’s chest.  He feels attached again, a tangibly intense love lying in front of him, stealing his breath away not because of the way he looks but for who he is (but also for the way he looks because _damn)_.

Although he has minor injuries – an immobile arm with a cast up and over his elbow, several cuts on his face and chest, about twenty dissolvable stitches at his hairline – he’s (barely) awake, staring at the blank screen of the hoisted television.  Kurt can’t believe how grown into himself Blaine looks.  The few months have really done wonders on him, although it’s probably a result of the almost three years since Kurt’s truly _seen_ him, rather than just looking.  He was too preoccupied to notice last time, but he looks fuller, older; he is older, a constant reminder that Kurt was not there to see the transformation.  He looks good, especially for a guy who almost died today.

“You have a beard.”

Blaine whips his head toward Kurt’s obvious voice all too quickly and smiles shyly.  They stare at each other, goofy grins plastered despite the terrible circumstance of why Kurt is here.  “The first thing you say to me while I’m laid up in a hospital is ‘you have a beard.’”  He goes to flatten his hair with his free hand.  “Hi.”

“Are you okay?  You have a beard and it looks really, _really_ good on you and you’re not allowed to die.  Ever.”  Kurt tilts his head and leans up against the frame of the door, folding his arms and openly checking him out, regardless of how small and fragile Blaine looks in the cot.

Blaine’s eyes soften as though, in the past few seconds, his soul had been repaired.  

Kurt’s familiar with the sentiment; he’s confident he has repaired himself just by looking at Blaine in the light he’s supposed to be seen.  

“Come here.”  Blaine pleads, patting the bed repeatedly.  “Please?”

Kurt doesn’t budge.  “I thought I lost you forever because of some stupid shit I said in the heat of the moment and I feel terrible that I suggested you should run to your mother of all people!  I mean, unless you want to of course.  I’m all for you reconnecting if you think it’s good for you.  Is it?  Are we here because of what I said?  I feel terrible.”  He knows he’s rambling and it’s okay because it feels good, natural, right.

“An almost-apology for being a dick.”  Blaine mimics Kurt’s smile then bites his lip and looks away.

Kurt drags a chair over, speaking over the obnoxious noise of the legs dragging across linoleum.  “Seriously!  I’m such a dick, but you know that’s only because I love you and clearly I was taking you for granted?  I always sorta did, and I don’t want to anymore.  Take you for granted, I mean.”  He sits in the chair he pulled over, right next to Blaine’s bed.  “Sorry.  You just scared me and I thought I lost you without getting my second chance.”

“It’s… Kurt, why are you here?  I mean, our phone call…”

“Are you listening to me, Blaine?  I just… it was just instinct to get my ass to Lima to make sure you were okay.  Because I love you.”  He sighs.  “It sounded really bad when my dad called me.”

“Mmm, I guess it was… but I’m still here.  Pretty boy.”  

Kurt can’t help but roll his eyes fondly.  “I’m glad, because Rachel lost Finn when they were on a break and I-” He takes Blaine’s hand and squeezes.  There’s a beat as he figures out a way to attempt a seamless segue.  “You know, your mother put me on a blacklist.  Evidently, I’m not allowed to visit you at the hospital.”

“Mmmm, that’s because you’re so gay.”  Blaine drawls out the “so”, surely for comedic relief, and winks at Kurt.  “Obviously, you straightened it out...  Slipped through the back door?  No pun intended, of course.”

Kurt drops his chin to his chest and laughs.  “Oh my _God_ , Blaine!”  He chuckles and raises his head again.  “You know, the girl at the front desk actually charged me admission to see you.”  Kurt trails his fingers up and down Blaine’s cast.  “It’s like you’re a zoo animal.”

“How much am I worth to you, Hummel?”

“Like, a hundred bucks and me making sure the girl valued her job enough to let me in.  I might have openly offered it to her, in the midst of a desperate moment, but what matters now is that I’m here for you and you’re alive.  Also, we’re both in Ohio and that is just unacceptable.  Didn’t we hate it here?”  Kurt laughs, in turn making Blaine laugh, and soon enough, they’re both giggling like teenagers.

It fades away awkwardly and the silence is deafening. 

“I also might have told the zookeeper out there that we’re married and that she had to let me back if she didn’t want a lawsuit.  I got a little scary for no real reason, considering Ohio is still not required to recognize our everlasting vows, is it?  Identical to the opportunity you saw last time we were here, if I’m remembering correctly.”  He preens a bit; he’s proud of what he said to the receptionist.

“I believe that was Carole’s idea, actually.  I didn’t even know what was happening back then.”

Kurt waves him off.  “You’re supposed to take credit for grand romantic gestures like that, B.”

Blaine looks at him and laughs an uncontrollable bark from the pit of his stomach but stops quickly and winces in pain.  “Shit.”

Kurt stands and puts a gentle hand on Blaine’s casted arm, awkwardly slipping into his fingers after a few seconds.  “You need anything?”

“No.  Just a little sore.”  He takes a deep breath in and looks at Kurt again, a wicked grin spreading on his lips.

“You are a child.”  Kurt attempts seriousness but can only rush the words out through a fit of giggles.

“You really wanted to see me that bad?”

“Of course.  I was on the first flight out as soon as my dad called.”  
  
“My mother is here somewhere, you know.”

“Are you two… working it out?”

Blaine shrugs.  “Nah.  All of this happened after a very short phone call letting her know that I was coming over to talk… after we…” He clears his throat. “After you and I talked.  Flipping an SUV tends to second-guess the events leading up to it, and I was only trying to find a family outside of yours because it was what you wanted.  I see that you don’t really want that now, do you?”

Kurt offers a sad smile.  “We’ll figure it all out and get you better.  Do you want me to stick around even with your mom here?”

“If she wants to kick my husband out, then she can say goodbye to me, too.”  Blaine’s grip on Kurt’s hand tightens and they sit in silence for minutes that blend together.  Kurt’s smile radiates in the bright lights of the hospital’s interior.

Eventually, Blaine breaks the silence and says, “I really fucking miss you, Kurt.”

Kurt nods.  He feels like he’s the king of the world right here in this room.  “I can’t settle for a life just wondering how you are.  I think we should be friends, get back in touch.  Learn each other again?”

“There are a lot of things I want from you but I must say that I have never thought about being your friend.”  

Kurt smiles again and lifts an eyebrow.  “Okay.  Secret lovers.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hummel.”  Blaine grins, obviously happy in spite of himself. He sits up straight on the bed so he’s sitting flat against the headboard of pillows he’s created.

“Blaine?”

Blaine’s eyes flicker toward Kurt where they glimmer and shine, misty with moisture.  “Yeah.”

“I’ll force you to friendship for now; we both know how stubborn I can be when the task at hand is important to me.”

“Mmhmm.  If I know anything at all, it’s how stubbornly frustrating you are.  Somehow, it worked for me though.”

“Well, I sure hope the four years of our lives together worked on some level.”

“They did.”

“Look, today just really reiterated how short life is and how everything I know could be gone in a flash; how it _has_ been gone in a flash and I think we should really work on us.  We can start over and just take it from wherever we feel is good.  I can’t have you be a mysterious silhouette in my life from this point forward.  I don’t want to miss you anymore.” 

They both pointedly turn back toward the dark television set hanging and swaying from the ceiling. 

Kurt continues, but to the wall.  “And please don’t think that I’m only here trying to fix us because you’re hurt.  I’ve been trying to figure out my feelings for a few weeks… since the last time I saw you in New York and I would have come to my conclusion with or without a broken elbow or whatever, okay?”

“Okay.” Blaine sighs, nodding slowly as if he’s come to a revelation.  “Kurt?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m quick to say yes to this friend thing because I’ve missed you, but I don’t think I could handle jumping right back into full-blown Kurt and Blaine like we were.  I’m just really…”

“What do you propose, husband?”

Blaine gives him a pointed look and continues.  “I don’t know.  Maybe we can omit all the… awkward.  Pretend it’s not there.”

“Mmmm.  My brand new BFF has the best ideas.”

Blaine laughs.  “Go fuck yourself.”

“Blaine.”

“Don’t reference our acquitted sex life, Hummel.  Do not.”

“No.”  Kurt laughs.  “I just wanted to say that I love you.”

Blaine tilts his head.  “Oh.” 

“Is that okay?  That I still do?”  Kurt clears his throat dramatically and looks at him.  At Blaine’s nod, he repeats himself.  “ _I love you, Blaine_.” 

“ _Loveyoutoopretty_.”  Blaine mumbles and snaps his neck to look out the window.  

**xK &Bx**

It is a half hour of mundane talk and pointless conversation before anything of substance happens.

“What is with the incompetence of administrative hospital professionals these days, for God’s sake?”  A voice is heard by both, too feminine to be Burt but with enough spiteful venom in it to clearly be an Anderson.

Kurt pulls his eyes off of Blaine to glance at her in disgust.  He turns straight back to Blaine and smiles at him.  “Move over, babe.”

Blaine does what he’s told, watching what appears to be a stake-out between the love of his life and his mother, starting with Kurt completely disgusted with her presence.  This is not going to end well.

Kurt climbs up on the bed and lies on his side facing Blaine, his elbow propping up his head.  “That okay?”  His voice is quiet, like a hunter in the forest approaching a pack of wolves.  Blaine nods, so Kurt smiles again and bops Blaine’s nose.  Kurt drops his voice to a whisper.  “Do you really want to fix whatever it is that you had with your mom or were you just doing that to make me happy?”  

“It’s funny...  I had been thinking about seeing her and then we talked and you’re here with me and I realize I’ve never needed any of them.  You’re my family.”

“Damn right I am, and don’t you forget it.”  Kurt grins into the small kiss he gives Blaine because he can’t not and smirks at the surprised look he finds when he pulls away.  “Sorry.  I had to.”

“Hey!  You get the hell away from him!”

Kurt reacts to Blaine’s worried expression by scooting in closer, dropping one of his legs over Blaine’s hips and nuzzling intimately into his hair.  “Just focus on me, B.  She’ll go away, even if I have to make her.  They’re just words.”  There’s a beat as they listen to her heels clicking across the floor, the epitome of an angry Asian woman with obvious disgust boiling well above the desired temperature.  “We’re stronger than your parents, baby.  Always were, right?  Now, tell me what happened in your accident.  You sure you’re not uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine.  It was so weird, like it happened so fast but every second felt like an hour.  The nurse has been waking me up every half hour since I’ve been here so I don’t slip into a coma or something because of the concussion.  I’m just really sore and tired and over being here but I’m really happy you came.  Thank you for coming.  It means so much, like we actually might have a chance to know each other again.”

“Good, honey.  Just rest and you’ll feel better.  I’m sure you can go home to rest soon.”   Kurt gently pulls him in closer and kisses into his hair.

“You’re being mighty boyfriendy, pretty.”

“I believe the correct term is ‘ _husbandy_.’”  Kurt smiles.

“Right.”  Blaine rolls his eyes and smiles.

Kurt jerks and arches his back at the feeling of claws poking into his shoulder blades.  He turns to his other side so he doesn’t hurt Blaine getting off the bed.  He looks her up and down and scoffs.  “Excuse me.  What the hell is your problem?”

“You.  Get out.”

“With all due respect, Sondra, do you really think I’d leave with my tail between my legs just because you suggest it?  I think _you_ should go.”

“I am his mother!”

“In the six years I have known Blaine, I have never thought of you as his mom.”

“I will call security.”

“You and your husband sure do a great job of keeping me away.”  He rolls his eyes.  “I’m always going to be here for him, and it’s hilarious you still don’t get that.”

“You don’t deserve my Blaine.”

“Huh.  You and I finally agree on something.”

Kurt sighs and sits at the foot of the bed, if only to take a break from the snarky firing back and forth that comes to him naturally.  He looks back at beautiful Blaine sitting and staring at him in awe, the gold specks floating in his eyes especially vivid, shocked, full of unconditional love.  Kurt smiles and shakes his head fondly before finding Sondra’s eyes.  “I’d always hoped for a mother-in-law who was a bit kinder and maybe willing to share some crock pot secrets.  I guess I can’t get _everything_ I want.”  He smiles at Blaine and kisses him quick.  “The trade-off is decent, most of the time.”

Blaine smiles and whispers, “Thank you.”

Kurt turns back to Blaine’s mother, searching for the last zinger that could end this conversation.  “Oh, I’m sorry, _Mom_.  Your invitation to the wedding must have been lost in the mail.  Two years ago.”

Blaine’s mom is openly gaping at them until the doctor comes to check in and she makes a show of storming out.  The doctor doesn’t seem fazed by her as he explains that Blaine is free to go home as soon as the paperwork is finished, and Kurt should follow the nurse to the registrar’s cubicle to go over some insurance logistics.  The doctor gives them a minute of privacy.

“I think we need to solidify the lies before we get in any deeper.”

Blaine laughs.  “Whatever.  I’m pretty confident I won’t be seeing her any time soon.  Grab me my wallet?”  Blaine points to the clear plastic bag with his belongings from the accident.

Kurt crosses the room and grabs the bag, sitting on one of the hideous chairs near the window.  He delivers the wallet to Blaine and lets him go through it, immediately back to fold the clothes in the plastic bag neatly, cringing at the drops of blood at the collar of the shirt.

Blaine digs his insurance card and driver’s license out of the designated slots and hands them to Kurt with a smile.  “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Always.  I’ll be right back.”  Kurt kisses Blaine’s forehead and disappears after the doctor.

**xK &Bx**

For the most part, Blaine feels fine.  Once he’s situated on the couch, Kurt fetches a blanket for snuggle time (but _not_ nap time) before asking if he needs anything else.   At Blaine’s request, Kurt graciously delivers water along with a few brownies he finds from Carole’s most recent baking stint.  He sets everything on the coffee table and opens the bottle of water for Blaine.

Blaine takes it and openly checks out his ex-lover.  “God, Kurt.  You look good.”

Kurt blushes and smiles, looking down to try to hide it.  “I was just thinking that I should get back to Ohio for the sake of a Friday night dinner.  It’s still home, somehow.”

“You know you didn’t have to come rescue me.  I mean… we could have just – I could have called you if I needed you.  Carole would have –” He sighs.  “Shit,” he whispers, “why is this so hard?”

“Blaine.”  Kurt smiles and sits next to him, facing his body toward him completely.  “Remember what you said?  Forget the awkward tension.  I’m still me.”  

Blaine lifts his eyes to meet Kurt’s.  When Goldschläger meets deep ocean blue, Blaine offers him a half-smile.  “Yeah.”  He sighs.  “No, I know that.”

Kurt nods.  “I think you should stay until at least Thanksgiving.”

“Are you?  Staying until Thanksgiving?”

Blaine gets pulled closer into Kurt’s body so he’s leaning on his chest, jaw open with a smile sneaking out from the sides.  

“I always loved how tiny you are.”

Blaine snuggles harder, like a puppy, proving it difficult with an arm that won’t reposition.  He remains.  “Did you run away from Clunky Gumby to be by my side?”

“Among other things.”

“Remember how it was weird being here without you?”

“Yeah?”  
  
“Even weirder with you.”

“Thanks.”  Kurt’s snark is apparent, but it’s light enough to be taken as a joke.

“Are you sure you’re okay, though?  You’ve been… I can tell something is bothering you, I guess.”

“I’ll be okay.  I ran away from a boy who is suffocating me.  I mean, my running away was all in the works… it just came sooner when you needed me.”  Kurt takes a moment to think back to his first fight with Oliver, and about Blaine, at that. He sighs.  “Also, I’m still coming down from the possibility of losing you for good.  I thought you were dead, Blaine.”

Blaine pointedly ignores the last comment and jumps ahead to the boyfriend troubles for obvious reasons. “What did he do?”

“He’s just…” Kurt releases a sigh.  “Nothing.  He’s done nothing.  He’s sweet and nice enough, I guess, whenever he’s not beating you up.  He says he’s really happy with me and that he trusts me, but I just don’t feel it.  I think his feelings are deeper than mine, and I know they always will be.  It’s such a dead end.  I’m sorry.  It’s silly to talk to you about.”

“You don’t have to hide from me, Kurt.”

“I know that.”

“Besides, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Kurt shamelessly wipes an escaping tear and looks at Blaine, expectant for him to continue.

Blaine nods.  “For leaving you like that.  Like you had no say at all in where we should live just because I couldn’t do New York.”

He sighs.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.”  

“Well, if we’re talking about this finally… Columbia was haunting you, B.  You had to get out of New York with or without me for your own sanity and actually, I’m glad you were able to survive all of that.  I’m proud that you did what was best for you at the time, even if it broke my heart.  I wish we had talked about it more while it was happening, but I’m happy we can put it behind us now.”  There’s a pause and Kurt looks down at his own tangled fingers, his own sweaty palms he’s wringing out like the laundry.  “I think I’m going to stay in Ohio through at least Christmas.”

“Mmmm.”

“I’m running away from him.  I’m old now and just as lost as I was straight out of college.  I’m not happy in New York and I think a break would be good.  You’re here for a while and we can hang out again, and there won’t be any stress here.  I can leave the Bean with Santana for a while.  She just started dating this girl that works there and she’s really blossomed in her new city life.  I can help out at the original and be fine here with a strong support system in my parents that I can’t really find anywhere else.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

“It was a restless plane ride in between hoping I wasn’t walking into a funeral.”

“I think New York might be a curse for the both of us, huh?”

“Understatement of the year.”

“You should come home if you’re going to be happier here for a while.  Spend some extra time with Burt and whatnot?  And there’s always your best friend, the tiny delinquent you love.”

There’s a beat.  Blaine thinks.

“Kurt?”  Blaine knows that the unspoken question will convey the way it’s supposed to.  They’ve always had a way of communicating with their eyes.  “Talk to me.”

“I don’t... Blaine, I really don’t want to love anybody else besides you, and that’s why I’m keeping Oliver at an arm’s length.  I don’t know if I _can_ love anyone else.”  He shivers.

Blaine needs a minute; he escapes Kurt’s grasp and paces, brushing his knuckles alongside the back of the couch, turning on his heel and going back to the starting point.  He repeats the movement twice then circles the couch and sits back down, exactly where he was.  He continues the conversation as if he never got up in the first place.

“How are your nightmares?  We’re getting close to-”

Kurt looks at him, eyes glistening with moisture.  “It’s like no time has passed at all.  I was fine when you were… around.  I looked at you and saw the positive parts of Christian.”  Blaine takes his hand.

“There are no positive parts of Christian, Kurt.”

Kurt turns his whole body toward Blaine.  “There’s you.”  He offers.  “You loved me so fully, despite you not really knowing what love was growing up.  You turned out normal, even though he was your only example.”

“Love.”

“What?”

“Love.  You said I _loved_ you so fully.  I still love you.  I hope that’s doesn’t freak you out.”

“Not in a bad way.  Does it freak you out that… me too?”  Kurt lets out a shaky breath.  

“Not in a bad way.”  Blaine smiles, clearly urging Kurt to continue.

“When I knew you weren’t in New York anymore, the nightmares came back so strongly.  I started seeing him on the streets, on the subway, in my apartment… like hallucinating.  Which is ridiculous because he’s actually here, locked away to rot two hours away from us right now.  How is it that I feel better here with you than I do in New York, eight-hundred miles away, by myself?”

“I don’t know.  I feel the same in California.  We both went through these tragic events that no one in the world will ever understand better than we will for each other.  If for no other reason at all, that’s why we should be friends again.”

“We were never friends, B.”  Kurt smiles at him.  “But we will be now.”

“We were!  Just because you were my boyfriend doesn’t mean you weren’t also my best friend.  Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

“Ah, which brings me back to Oliver.  He won’t stop making it all more serious.  He proposed like it was so natural to him, and I hardly considered us dating then!  Now, he’s sneaking more of his shit into my closet, and Jesus… he’s so fucking clingy!  He constantly wants to know where I am and what I’m doing and if he can make dinner or pick up groceries on his way over to see me.  He thinks I’m from _Indiana_ , Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

“I don’t want to live with him… I don’t even know if I want to be with him at all, especially with these new… developments in my life with an old boyfriend getting back in touch.”  He coughs and looks at Blaine, clearly for a reaction.

Blaine keeps a straight face and continues to listen.

“He wants to know everything about my past, things I’m not ready to share, like the Christian of it all, and he constantly asks me details about you, because Santana is a fucking bitch and always, always mentions you in front of him on purpose.”

“Well, obviously.  You can’t expect anything less from her, Kurt.”  He smiles.

“She only starts shit because she knows it makes me uncomfortable.  She said that hopefully it will make me uncomfortable enough to call you.”

Blaine laughs.  “I’ll have to thank her, then.”   

“Shut up.  He’s just so obsessive and determined to keep me forever, or something.  It’s really fucking annoying.”

“I don’t know why I’m defending him, but you do that to a guy.  Remember how adamant I was?  You make us all bat-shit-crazy about you without even doing anything in particular and we never let you out of our sight, but as soon as we do… well, it’s our biggest regret.  And need I remind you that I, myself, am obsessive and determined to keep you forever.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes and continues.  “You’re different.”

Blaine shrugs.

“Besides, I’m not sure I can truly give myself to someone without them understanding that it’s non-negotiable that I jump whenever anyone in my family needs me.  And when you needed me, I came here, despite his bitching about how you’re ‘just my ex’ who I shouldn’t care about anymore.  I’m not ready for him to be possessive like that.”

“I’m still your family.”

Kurt laughs.  “Out of that whole rant, you only hear that you’re family.  Didn’t we already establish this at the hospital?”

“So like, bros helping bros, or… might as well get married and buy a crib?”

“Fuck off.”  Kurt hits Blaine’s chest in a playful way.  “I’m glad we’re able to talk like this instead of biting each other’s heads off.”

“I’m going with bros helping bros for now, with the potential of turning into husband-daddies.  I want to donate the sperm for our baby girl if you jack off to make the boy.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m serious, Kurt.  The only regret of my life is leaving you.  Any guy would be the luckiest guy in the world to call you his forever, and I’m not gonna stop until that’s me.  Obsessive to keep you forever.  Got it?”

“Stop.”  Kurt rolls his eyes and rubs at his cheeks as though he’s trying to disguise the inevitable blush rising now to the tip of his ears.

They cuddle until they can cuddle no more and Kurt proceeds to wake Blaine up every few hours that night with a nudge and a friendly reminder that concussions cause comas.  


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Songs Used in this Chapter:**   
**Brandi Carlisle – The Story**   
**The Darkness – I Believe in a Thing Called Love**

A few days later, on one of their pointless drives only to get out of the house, Kurt pulls into the Lima Bean’s parking lot without even one line of explanation.  He’s hardly left Blaine’s side these past few days, and it feels good to spend the time together, especially since they are usually on opposite sides of the country and less than friends.  He links his arm with Blaine’s casted one as he drags him up the stairs toward the apartment.  It’s an unspoken agreement that they need to reminisce within the place where their relationship truly started, and nostalgia gets the best of them, both quiet with each creak of the stairs. 

“It’s left exactly the same from after...”

“I haven’t really been here since then.  Come on.”  He takes Blaine’s hand and pulls him toward the couch.  “It feels like twenty-thirteen all over again.”

“Feels better.  Like I might actually deserve you.”

Kurt sighs.  “B…”

Blaine bites his lip, looking around and petting at the new curtains.  He picks up a picture of them together, grazing the glass that’s protecting the picture and smiles back at the photo, every ounce of feeling from that day crashing back into Kurt’s heart at the sight.  

Blaine looks back to Kurt, eyes full of moisture ready to burst at the seams.  “You know, I lost my virginity here.”

“Blaine, I-”

“No, Kurt.  Don’t make me talk about this.”  Blaine places the picture back on the table and sighs when Kurt gives him a pointed look.  “Okay, fine.  We have to talk about it.”

“You first.”  Kurt approaches him, picking up the photo Blaine just put down and staring at it.  “We should lay everything that we’re feeling out on the table so we can keep moving forward.  It’s a very necessary step to healing, you know.”

“God.  Don’t you know by now that I can’t?  Heal, I mean.” 

Kurt makes eye contact.  He tilts his head and nods a bit, returning the photo back to its designated spot.

Blaine leads them to the once-shared bedroom, talking all the while down the hall.  “Okay, look.  Let’s just get through the initial nostalgia and make it fun.  We _lived here_ , Kurt.  Together.  Let’s remember that fondly and maybe I’m not the best person to discuss Oliver with… or maybe anything else that’s happening in your life, but you know you can talk to me about it all.  As awkward as it may be to talk about your boyfriend with you, I’ll still listen to you and try to give you an unbiased opinion about the guy.”  Blaine brushes his fingers along the footboard; he’s clearly still reminiscing.

“Yeah.”  Kurt nods and makes sure his flooding eyes meet Blaine’s.  They stare at each other as their world goes still.  “What?”  Kurt smiles, shyly at first but wider when Blaine smirks at him.

“Stop your crying, pretty.  It breaks my heart.”  Blaine sits at the edge of the bed, staring at a mounted, framed picture that sits high on the wall opposite of the bed: the first one they ever took, at the Lima Bean with matching aprons.

“Mmm, sorry.”  Kurt wipes his eyes.  “So, happy thoughts huh?  Do you remember when Jules came upstairs to get the keys and you tortured her without a shirt?”

Blaine laughs and looks at him.  “Poor girl; she loved me.  I’m such a douche.”

“True.”

Blaine gasps as a mockery as he jolts upright again, a grin plastered to his face all the while.  “Excuse you, sir!  You loved the guarded attitude and the ankle bracelet.  Besides, I haven’t _really_ been a douche since I told you how much my cock missed you in front of those housewives at the Lima Bean.  That might have been a little disrespectful.”

“Love.”

“Huh?”

“You said I loved those things.  I love them, present tense.”  

“That’s my line, baby.”  Blaine grins and winks.  “Anyway, being a douche to those skanks was only punishment for sitting at our table.”  Blaine says with a shrug.  He opens his good arm, hinting that Kurt should come closer.

“Don’t mess with my tiny little delinquent.”  Kurt sighs and pushes himself against Blaine’s chest again.  “FYI:  The reserved sign is still there.  In case you find that you still may need it.”

Time stops yet again and they can physically feel the love pouring out of any opening on his body.  

Their bodies separate and Blaine continues to their bathroom.  It’s clear he is making a point to see every single room again, in search of triggering the happy memories in this apartment instead of lingering within the sad ones.  

Naturally, Kurt follows.  “Okay, okay.  These past few days have been focused on your getting better and, while that’s important, I need to know more about you.  Dating?  Boyfriend?”

Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and twirls his body so he’s standing against the sink and looking into the mirror.  Kurt gasps as Blaine hugs him from behind; squeezing at his waist the best he can with one arm and hooking his chin to his shoulder.  They make eye contact in the mirror.  

“None of the above.  There are no dates and definitely no boyfriends.  There is San Francisco, the Castro.  There are always condoms.  I’m a smart college boy now, pretty.”  Blaine kisses Kurt’s cheek and lets go of him.  He walks back down the hall and into the kitchen.  It takes some effort for him to launch himself on the counter one-handed, but he succeeds after only two noble hopping efforts.

Kurt follows.  “So does that mean there’s lots of sex?”

“I guess.”  Blaine shrugs; Kurt senses that he hasn’t been thoroughly satisfied since they last slept together.  Kurt only knows this because he identifies with the sentiment of sex meaning more than just someone inserting something into another’s something.

Kurt laughs; his insides feel warm, like a steaming cup of tea after sledding for hours during a mid-western winter.

“Do you even know how to put a condom on, B?”  Kurt pushes at Blaine’s legs so they open enough for him to stand between them.  He places both of his palms at Blaine’s identical hipbones.  The magnet is, once again, in full force.  “I mean, we never…”

“Of course I do.  Now.”  Blaine grins.  “When I first moved, I gave this guy the blowjob of his life and it resulted in a very long string of antibiotics.”  He scrunches his nose and continues.  “I felt really dirty and worthless for a long time.  Then I got back out there and sought out what I needed, but this time I brought protection.”

“Um, what are you saying?”

“Gonorrhea, Kurt.  I had Gonorrhea.”

Kurt shrugs.  “Curable and common.  Nothing crazy, considering this new lifestyle in the Castro District, yeah?”

“Hey!  Are you calling me a slut?”  It’s a joke; Blaine must know he’s a slut already.  He specifically confirmed that there’s a fair share of sex.

“No.  Blaine, I just mean… it’s good that… that’s all you… dammit.”

Blaine laughs.  “It’s okay pretty.  I know I’m sort of a whore.  It’s gone now, obviously, and I’m a lot more careful now than before.”  Blaine shrugs and plays a bit with the nape of Kurt’s neck.  “Can I speak candidly for a minute here?”

“Of course.”  Kurt leans into Blaine’s touch.

“We can both fuck around to whatever capacity we feel necessary for now but eventually, that New York guy loses. All those guys in San Francisco don’t stand a chance, either.  You know that, don’t you?”

“Mmmm.”

“After all is said and done, after all the other guys we fuck and after the STDs and the clingy boyfriends we can’t fall in love with, you’re the one in bed with me fifty years from now.  We’ll be old and wrinkly, laughing about today when we foreshadowed our entire life: broken up but still in each other’s lives, come hell or fucking high water, pretty.  There’s a long way to right all of our wrongs, to mend our flaws, but we’re going to do it because you are the only one I can’t live without and I like to think you feel the same way about me.”

Kurt looks up at him, eyes glistening with moisture spilling over at the seams.  He nods slightly; of course he feels the same way.

“I’m probably overstepping every boundary and being totally inappropriate.”

Kurt shakes his head, eager to hear what Blaine has to say.  He moves his hands down and rests them on Blaine’s thighs.

“You’re it for me, Kurt... you have to know that.  You’re the only one in the entire world I can be myself around, the only person in the world I’ve never lied to, the only one I would ever make my husband if that’s what you wanted.  We’ve been through some shit and came out stronger, and I think these past three years apart just proves that we can survive anything.  If we can survive Christian, surely we can do this?”  He unwraps his hand from the back of Kurt’s neck and pushes at his chin to angle Kurt’s lips right where he wants them.  

He places a soft, lingering kiss squarely in the center of Kurt’s mouth.  When they separate, Blaine makes a show out of not pulling away.  Kurt can feel each exhale as Blaine breathes his air into Kurt’s lungs.  Every word of this declaration puffs out more hot air, controlling Kurt until he’s paralyzed in the warmth of Blaine’s oxygen.  

“I have two people in San Francisco that I actually consider my friends.  It happens that they’re dating and they have been for a really long time.  They remind me so much of what we were, almost to where it’s painful to go out with them but it’s also kind of comforting at the same time because it leaves me with hope.  They’ve broken up twice and got back together after some time alone, and they’re disgustingly in love.  They don’t give a shit who the fuck sees it, they’re always in their own world and it’s actually kind of cute.  I can’t help thinking that I want to take you on a double date with them.”  Blaine smiles.  “But I can’t, because you’re not mine anymore.”

Kurt speaks in a low whisper after a moment of exchanging breath.  “I’m happy you have friends.  I was worried about that.”

“Yeah.  They’re cool.  Steve is kind of stereotypical sometimes, but Jimmy evens him out most of the time.  You’d love them.”

“I’ve made a few new friends that aren’t also yours, and it feels weird to not talk about them to you because I remember you don’t know them.”

“I’ll come to New York.  You can introduce me.”

“You know, after that first year, Santana and Rachel were kind of trying to get me to move on.  An outsider’s point of view might have thought it was completely over between us, I guess, so they started suggesting that there were other _fish in the sea_.”

“But what do you do when in order to find another Kurt Hummel, you need to Christopher Columbus that shit and discover an entirely new ocean?”

“Exactly!  I mean, about you.  You were so much more than just a fish to me, B. You were my whole fucking world, and everything you just said only reiterated it for me.  I mean, you’re talking candidly about fifty years from now.  Not everyone in my life can do that and get away with it.”  There is minimal effort required for a new kiss, a kiss as though they are elaborating on what they need to say not through words, but through each shared inhale.  

“If I were your fish, that suggests that there are plenty more of me that you could claim when I leave, and I don’t think you feel like that about me, do you?”

“You only get one true love, Blaine Anderson, and you are it for me too.  You’re the ocean.”  Their lips meet again; there’s so much to say but they have the rest of their lives to speak.  Now is about the kissing.

“I feel exactly the same about you, Kurt Hummel.  I think I needed to get the crazy sexcapades with multiple partners out of my system before we lock it down for the rest of our lives.”  Blaine opens his mouth and bites down on Kurt’s lower lip.

“Well, you probably didn’t _need_ to do that.”  Kurt smiles.

“Come on, pretty.  I’m in my early twenties.  _Of course_ I needed to do that.”

“Fair enough.”  Kurt nods.  “I’m so happy you get what I’m saying.”

“That was never our problem.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You shouldn’t judge me for being a slut in San Francisco.”

“I don’t!  If I lived in San Francisco at your age, I would do exactly the same thing.  You _should_ go out and hook up with hot guys all the time.”

Blaine pushes Kurt back and jumps down off the counter.   He puts his good arm around his shoulders and pulls him in again, nearly forcing Kurt’s head to meet Blaine’s shoulder.  “You say the word and I stop all that shit and I come home to you.”

“Promise?”

“On every single thing I am, Kurt.  You just… call me home and I’m on the next flight.”

**xK &Bx**

Someone leads someone back over to the couch and a half hour of silence goes by with hardly any shifting or movement between the two.  They just need to be connected.

Kurt is gaping at Blaine, his ex-lover, his ex-everything rooted to the cushion next to his.  He can blatantly identify with the feeling of a crossroads of sorts coming soon to turn his world upside down.  He’s staring, he knows he’s staring, but Blaine is so beautiful and the blame would be irrelevant.  He’s lost all care for everyone and everything else in his life; he missed him.  Blaine is home.  And he can’t do this without him.

“Kurt.  Babe, we can’t be together.  You said just friends.”

“What?  I know that.  What, why did you say that?”

Blaine smiles down at him and kisses him hard on the cheek.  “You’re staring.”

“I’m sorry.”  Kurt grins embarrassingly into his hands.  “Let’s go back to Dad’s.  I’m pretty sure he has a razor you could borrow.”

“Oh, come on!  You love the beard.”

“I think I have actual cuts all over my face from the barbed wire growing out of your chin.”

“Mmmm, so you’d mind if I kissed you again?”

“Haven’t you ever kissed anyone with a beard before?  It really hurts!”

“For a hot as hell, grown man… you sure know how to embrace your inner whiny five-year-old.”  

Kurt raises an eyebrow and tries to get up off the couch but Blaine pins him down into a headlock and his lips are a pleasure cruise on high seas, rough and scratchy with every wave taking it in as a plaything.  The coarse hair of Blaine’s beard scratches in the most erotic way possible as he dominates the hard peck against Kurt’s lips.  He breaks away and gets up, looking exactly like the cat that got the cream.  

Blaine winks and jumps up.  

Before following after Blaine, who can be found stumbling down the stairs, Kurt puts two fingers over his lips and feels the movement of his mouth as he whispers, “fuck.”  He snaps out of it and turns his head in the direction of where Blaine used to be.  “You fucking drive me crazy, Anderson.”  He locks up and checks to make sure that it was successful twice before joining Blaine at the bottom of the stairs.  He rolls his eyes when he sees Blaine’s wide grin, splitting his face in half and then in half again.

“You love it.”

Blaine takes it upon himself to retrieve the car keys from Kurt’s back pocket.  “So.  Why are you with Oliver if forever isn’t a possibility?”

“Back-up plan.”

“You, of all people, do _not_ need one of those.”  Blaine unlocks the doors with the keychain remote and holds the passenger’s side door open, clearly in hopes that Kurt will let him drive.  Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles but rushes over to the driver’s side of Burt’s truck.  The Navigator has officially been retired and the Honda went back to Enterprise as soon as possible; Kurt drives one of the tow trucks when he’s home anyway.

Blaine sighs and jumps up into the passenger’s seat and puts the key in the ignition to the melody of Kurt’s infectious laugh.  Buckling up must be hard to do with a casted right arm, but Kurt can only laugh harder in response to Blaine’s grin on his face, finally proof that they are both okay.

Kurt feels so light, it’s like he’s flying.  He taps his fingers against his leg to the beat of the song on the radio and merges into traffic.

_I wanna kiss you every minute, every hour, every day_   
_You got me in a spin but everything is a-okay_   
_Touching you, touching me_   
_Touching you, God you’re touching me_

They’re both belting out the words of the perfect song and cracking up as one tries to outdo the other.  Kurt takes the long way home, whipping into the driveway and pulling the gear into park nearly twenty whole minutes after they leave Main Street.  

**xK &Bx**

Blaine returns to California for two weeks, under the pretense of midterms but half of that is true.  Sure, Blaine does go back because of his midterms in an effort to not fuck up his final year of college.  There is another reason, though, and this one is a bit more detrimental to his mental health than any other reason on the surface.  

The _other_ reason he goes back to San Francisco is to get away from Kurt for a while.  Blaine hasn’t had sex in a few weeks, and to go from sixty to zero was doing something to him that he isn’t sure he would have been able to endure.  He really didn’t want to get so horny and uncomfortable that he would solicit Kurt and ruin everything once again. 

Meaningless sex has become such a major source of survival for Blaine in the years without Kurt and it needs to work the same now.

The Wednesday he returns to San Francisco, the day after his cast is sliced open and left at the doctor’s office in Ohio, he rushes through one of his three midterm papers due in a week and deems it good enough to submit early.  He closes his laptop and texts “I’m back” to the two familiar California-based phone numbers in his cell phone and goes to take a shower.  

(He and his friends in San Francisco had been banded together by some crazy force of nature that is general admission seating at a Hanson show at the Fillmore a year and a half ago.  Although they have sworn to never reveal how they met to the outside world, they still laugh about it from time to time; usually when they are entirely drunk off their asses and someone – _usually Blaine_ –   starts singing “Where’s The Love”.)

The Café on Market isn’t his usual stomping ground, but it’s where they decide to meet tonight.  San Francisco is lit up with nightlife and he passes through the crowd.  He leans up against the wall next to the club and lights a cigarette, waiting for Jimmy and Steve to get here.  It’s just a matter of time before they’re hugging each other, pecking hello on the lips, and heading inside.  

There is drinking and dancing as usual, and even some grinding, but this time doesn’t seem to fill the void, the want, the need, the desire to have a stranger under him and rutting until the friction completes the common goal, despite the dry spell he’s willingly put himself through.  He sneaks out before midnight, goes home and falls asleep on his own bed with no one next to him.

Jimmy blows up his phone with text messages while Blaine is fast asleep, criticizing the fact that Blaine Anderson actually went home alone for the first time since he’d met him.  He responds with a simple _go fuck yourself_ in the morning and shuffles to the kitchen for the sake of breakfast and coffee.  He dials Kurt’s number; he just wants to make sure he’s okay and he really can’t stop thinking about him in every waking moment.  It’s terrifyingly close to the anniversary of Kurt’s attack, and it makes Blaine uneasy that he’s not there to help in any way he can.

In lieu of a greeting, Kurt says, “I could really get used to you calling me all the time again, B.  What’s up?”

“Just woke up.  Miss you.”

“I miss _you_.  I loved having you here.  Coming home soon, I hope?  Thanksgiving?”

Blaine wants to tell him all about last night; how he wasn’t in the mood for hooking up because he couldn’t get Kurt’s gorgeous face out of his mind, how he could have had his pick of at least ten guys and he wound up leaving early and alone.  His brain begs his mouth to reveal the chants of Kurt’s name whispered between his lips on the cusp of riding out a self-inflicted orgasm, how he only comes as hard as he does when he says Kurt’s name to whatever stranger is below him on any given night.  He wants to say that he can only have sex with a guy if he pretends it’s true love, if he pretends the slut next to him is Kurt.

He wants to tell him details about the friends he’s made, the people completely unrelated or connected to Kurt.  He wants Kurt to tell him everything that’s happened since they said goodbye two and a half days ago.

Instead, Blaine listens to Kurt hum a tune he doesn’t recognize.  Blaine sighs.

“I miss you, pretty.  So much.”

“Blaine?  You said that already.  Are you okay?  Where are you?”

“Fine, I’m good.  In my kitchen.  I’m going to look at flights today.  I have to figure that out before they’re a billion dollars.”

“Email the info and I’ll pick you up… unless, of course, you’re bringing one of your playboys home to meet the parents.  Then you’re on your own and I’ll see you at the house but I’ll have you know that Burt is infamous for intimidation-based first impressions on the boyfriends; don’t you remember?  Consider yourself warned that Burt will rip your new boy toy apart until he’s shredded on the porch.”

“Haha.”  Blaine says, but with no conviction.  “Very funny… but Kurt?  I don’t do boyfriends.”

“You did me…”

Blaine barks out a laugh.  “Mmmm, I sure did.”

“You’ve probably done somebody else’s boyfriend.”

“You can’t blame me if they don’t tell me they have boyfriends, Hummel.”

Kurt huffs.  “Blaine, are you sure you’re okay?  Do I need to come beat someone up?”

“I’m fine.  I just…” Blaine sighs.  “I’m good.  I’m feeling uneasy, not being there with you right now.  Are you okay?  It’s not fair I had to leave you right before Thanksgiving.  Why do I need college, again?”

“At this point, because you’re almost done with it.  Anyway, I’m okay.”  There’s a beat.  “He’s not going to get me.”

“That doesn’t mean your nightmares will stop.  I hate that you’re alone right now.”

Kurt laughs.  “I love you.”  Then,  “what are you doing tonight, stud?”

“I am going to live out the fabulous, single life in San Francisco by doing homework until I fall asleep drooling on my laptop.”

“Blaine.”

“What?  It’s a perfectly acceptable night for anyone who is currently in college.”

“I’m fine, B.  I promise.”

“The sooner I go finish these papers, the sooner I can come home.  I’ll see you in a few days, okay?  Love you, baby.”  He hangs up abruptly and pops a K-Cup into the coffee maker, going on with his strict routine.  He sits at the island to eat his self-prepared breakfast and stares at the phone, dark and lonely.  “God dammit, Kurt Hummel.”

He gets through the day by concentrating on any piece of schoolwork he can, and keeping Kurt as far out of his mind as possible.  Before he knows it, he’s been blackmailed into going out and it’s nine o’clock in the evening as he’s spritzing cologne at each pulse point despite his honest attempt to stay out of the clubs.  Steve swears he’ll come over and drag him out of the house if he doesn’t see him at The Café by eleven.

He greets his usual suspects at ten-thirty and proceeds to the bar, vocalizing a clear plan to load himself up with the alcohol he suddenly needs to get through tonight.  Blaine’s penis wins over his heart tonight as an unnamed prospect trails his fingertips at the small of Blaine’s back, enticing him to turn around and appreciate his assets.  The bartender delivers his beer and they wordlessly find a spot on the dance floor.  

Blaine feels the music in his bones and the boy’s hand rubbing against his half-hard cock.  He brushes a piece of hair off of the boy’s forehead and realizes that he has enough of a resemblance to Kurt for him to thoroughly enjoy this.  That’s the only detail that decides it, really, so they dance more intensely than before and the boy gives him a light mark on his neck, silently offering up his services as soon as he’s ready to get out of here.  That was easy.  

“Come on.”  Blaine nips at the boy’s ear and takes his hand, leading him out of the throbbing club and into the street.  Blaine drapes his arm around him and leads him around the corner to his house.  

The foreplay is, as usual, limited.  They fuck immediately, Blaine taking dominance over this nameless albeit admittedly gorgeous man underneath him.  He thrusts in and out ruthlessly, destroying Faux Kurt’s tight hole as if he’s the first one who’s ever been granted access.  He very well might have been.  He comes quickly, thinking entirely of Kurt’s face in the midst of the most compromising positions.  He catches his breath, still inside the boy, and laughs weakly.  He rolls off and spreads out and over his partner for a few minutes.  Eventually, Blaine turns his head to check him out and smiles.  “Thanks, babe.”  He gets up and starts the shower.  He peels off the condom and ties it off, hoping this guy gets the hint to leave.  He needs to scrub extra hard tonight.

He hears footsteps on the stairs and lets out a breath, stepping into the shower.  He washes every part of his body thoroughly and twice, just to be sure.

**xK &Bx**

The night of Thanksgiving is spent so perfectly, one might think it was rehearsed prior to the gathering.  Kurt observes his family’s dynamic with Blaine flawlessly infused into it, and fully approves of the addition.  Kurt’s never, not once, challenged the possibility of Blaine’s love for him not being real, even toward the end of the relationship.  Seeing him in the midst of his family activities though, he can comparatively doubt Oliver’s true intentions of being accepted into his family one day; he simply doesn’t want it the way Blaine does.  Blaine doesn’t even have to try; he’s just a Hummel now.

Of course, there is a sense of an incomplete experience without his mother or Finn at any holiday, let alone one where its tradition correlates directly with giving thanks for the people and things that make life exceptional.  

He leans back, resting his head on the backside of the couch.  Closing his eyes, he takes his glass of wine cautiously to his lips, inhales, and sips.  It’s delicious, of course – Blaine brought it from California after slipping a “gorgeous girl with boobs” at the security gate a fifty-dollar bill to let it go through as one of his carry-on pieces.  He savors the taste of it and holds it in his mouth before swallowing, tasting the hint of sugar and grapes all the way to the pit of his stomach.  Apparently he has an audience because when he opens his eyes, Blaine is frozen to his spot at the end of the stairs, Monopoly board loosely hanging from his hand with his jaw slack.  Kurt blinks his eyes to open wide and unconsciously bites his lip, maintaining the intense eye contact with his ex-lover.  He tilts his head as an invitation and when Blaine moves to approach him, dropping the board game on the love seat en route, Kurt can’t help but make a space directly next to him entirely empty so Blaine can occupy his personal bubble completely for as long as he feels necessary.

“Having fun torturing me?”

Kurt sings his favorite Coldplay lyrics.  “ _Oh, I never meant to do you harm_.”

Blaine knocks his shoulder with Kurt’s and whispers through his smile.  “I want to do you.”

Kurt laughs and holds his stomach in discomfort.  “Oh my _God_ , Blaine.”

“Sorry.  Shut up.”

“Make me.” Kurt sways his head to both sides using just his neck, teasing Blaine and everything he is.  

Blaine chews his bottom lip and blinks.  He glances behind them toward the kitchen where Carole and Burt disappeared to the kitchen for the pumpkin chocolate tiramisu in the fridge.  He leans in slowly, stopping inches from Kurt’s face to silently check in with him, to make sure everything is okay.  

Kurt’s slight nod invigorates Blaine and he continues until their lips are as one.  There’s no movement but Kurt’s hands falling to his lap with his wine glass; there’s nothing but a feeling of drowning in love, in the lack of breath, taken completely by another man.

Burt’s adamant _laugh_ pulls them apart, bright blushes on their cheeks and the general inability to look at each other.

“About time, boys.  Oh Kurt, by the way, your boyfriend’s on the phone.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**   
**Song Used in this Chapter:  Sarah McLaughlin – Angel**

“He said you weren’t answering your cell phone all day and wanted to make sure all was good.  What level of _good_ should I tell this Oliver, kiddo?”  Burt gives both boys the pointed look of the century and shoves the cordless phone into Kurt’s hands before clapping his hand harshly down to Blaine’s shoulder, laughing again at the spit on Blaine’s face.  “You got a little something, Anderson.”  Burt brings his fingertips to the corner of his own mouth and raises an eyebrow. 

Kurt sighs and looks at Blaine, who is eloquently wiping his mouth of the shared saliva.  The fumble with the phone is as graceful as Kurt could ever be under the circumstance, like it’s burning him, then puts it to his ear with a grimace.  Blaine looks up at him and bites his bottom lip and twitches his mouth up into a sly smile.  Kurt can’t take the torture, so he separates from him frantically and rushes upstairs.  “Hello?”

The beginning of the conversation between Kurt and his boyfriend is strained, to say the least.  Oliver apologizes obsessively, as if he won’t let Kurt change the subject or hang up until he accepts it.  They speak of the aggravating trust issue Oliver seems to have, and Kurt accuses him of being spectacularly clingy.  It’s not an accusation; it’s a fact.  And it needs to stop.

He’d be happy to dump Oliver right here and now, but then he would be single and sleeping only a few feet away from Blaine.  He’s not ready for that, so he decides to keep his boyfriend to act as a barrier between good and wrong.  

Despite Kurt dramatically stating that he can’t have a serious relationship right now (but in his mind he means: _ever, if the person interested is not Blaine Anderson_ ) Oliver still professes his undying love for Kurt and this turns Kurt into a blabbering, nervous mess.  Although his feelings for Oliver are a lot less than love, Kurt feels bad for the situation at hand because he has now officially led someone on. Resistance is a common trait in his heart, but it shouldn’t be for Oliver.  He knows nothing serious will ever come of this relationship and his resistance has only ever been because he’s scared of falling too deep.  Case and point:  Blaine Anderson.  “Oliver, I… Oli, I’m just, I don’t-”

“I know, Kurt.  I want you to mean it when you do say it back.”  Oliver sighs audibly.

The thing is, though, he doesn’t _want_ to love Oliver, maybe ever and certainly not any time soon with the real love of his life lingering patiently downstairs.  Kurt listens to Oliver’s silence; he’s waiting for whatever else he needs to say as he racks his brain with ways he could stop comparing.  When Oliver remains silent, Kurt sighs.  “Well, I should go.  It’s still Thanksgiving and I’m being rude to my family.”

“You ran to him when I asked you not to.”

Kurt flops down on his bed in distress.  Will this conversation ever be over?  “I thought he was dead, Oliver.  I came to a person who needed me.”

“Would that be so bad?  If he had died?”

Kurt blinks, shifting his eyes around his bedroom.  He has shared his past with Oliver, at least in enough detail that he’s sure he knows full well about the deaths of his mother and Finn.  Because of this, Kurt concludes that Oliver might not have a heart at all.

“For your information, I would be absolutely destroyed if Blaine died.  I don’t even want to entertain the idea.  What the fuck is wrong with you?  I need to go.”

“You’re being very selfish here, Kurt.  I miss you.  I’m your boyfriend, not him.”

“Yes, well… you didn’t roll over in an SUV all because I suggested you go reconnect with someone who’s never even meant anything to you before.  I am guilty in this and I will be staying here until he’s fully healed.  Probably even longer than that, as a matter of fact, so you should probably remember your Skype password if you want to see me between now and the end of December, at least.”

“You’re not coming back?”

“You swear you love me, yet you wish for another person in my life whom I love to disappear forever all so you can have more of me?  If I’m being honest, I think you’re jealous that he is my family, despite the years of history I have with him.  I don’t think I can talk to you right now.  I’m going to go.”

“You said you love him?  Blaine?”

“Oliver.”  Oops.  Kurt did say that, didn’t he?  “Yeah.  Of course I do.”

Well, it’s not really a secret.  Anyone who knows them both well enough knows that it’s a tether of a string and each of them holds one end.  Anyone can see that Blaine has Kurt’s heart.  As a matter of fact, it’s still lying on 70th and Broadway, idle until Blaine returns to snatch it up before a wild animal gets to it.  

Kurt imagines the wild animal gnawing at it with fangs sharper than blades is Oliver Ellington, and Blaine will soon show up a little too late, frantic to smooth out the jagged edges after he’s ripped it out of Oliver’s mouth, teeth marks and all. 

“You called him after I proposed.”

“He’s my best friend.  Putting aside the fact that we dated in the past, he is still the person I want to tell everything.  That’s a huge thing to keep from your best friend.”

“He’s probably the one who talked you out of it.”

“He’s the only one who knows my reasoning behind not wanting to get married, Oliver.  Stop this petty bullshit.  Seriously, it’s not attractive.”

“He flew across the country to get you back and now you’re… _best_ friends with your ex-boyfriend.  I just, I’m not stupid, Kurt.”

“I desperately want to be over him, Oliver.  Believe me, but-”

“But you’re not.”

“He is the only person I had ever loved like that.”  Kurt tries to say it as an excuse; it comes out as a revelation.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?  Would you rather him or me?”

“ _Oliver_.”  Kurt knows he’s using Oliver.  He sighs.  “I like you, I just… I don’t know.  It’s a process for me.  We’ve only been dating a few months.”  Kurt laughs awkwardly.  He’s not sure how to get out of this conversation.  He knows exactly how his future with Oliver will go; he knows it will end sooner than later but he wouldn’t dare say that now.  “Why are you trying to rush it?”

“Fine... Whatever.  Forget I said anything.” 

Kurt releases the air in his lungs.  “So, how was your Thanksgiving, anyway?  Do you even celebrate it?”

They speak amicably for a few more minutes before Kurt politely excuses himself, lying that his family is begging him to watch a movie downstairs.  He hangs up and sighs a deep breath laced with regret of ever letting Blaine go to California in the first place.  

He needs to stay with Oliver, if only to not demonstrate a single life anywhere near Blaine.  He can’t be with Blaine again until they’re both ready for the intensity of it all and for the first time since they broke up, he feels like he understands the answer to the age-old question he’s asked himself since: _why can’t I just be with Blaine again?_

“Huh.  Because I’m not ready for the inevitable yet.”

**xK &Bx**

It’s not that Blaine is mad; he really has no right to be.  He knows he’s friend-zoned for the time being and he’s fine with that if it’s how it has to be to keep Kurt safe and happy.  However, he can’t help but think he can hear the mumbles of desperation in Kurt’s voice as he climbs the stairs.  

Ever since the “husband” stint at the hospital, he’s wanted Kurt back in the worst way and his heart is slowly deteriorating as he remembers the way Kurt singlehandedly turns Blaine’s brain off when he needs a distraction, and he’s the only one who really knows Blaine at all.  He gets a shivering chill at that; there’s no one else in his life that will ever be in so deep.

Burt is staring at him as he works through his inner monologue and he really can’t face the fatherly lecture right now or ever, so he follows in Kurt’s footsteps and finds his way to Finn’s room where he closes the door for some Blaine and Blaine time, all by himself and his laptop and whatever old Disney movie he can dig up.  

He hears the muffled laugh come from next door as Kurt and his _boyfriend_ catch up on the phone, discussing whatever the fuck they need to discuss.  Blaine hastily finds his headphones and blasts them until his eardrums can’t take the volume anymore.  Pausing after the _Circle of Life_ scene of his favorite movie ever, he stares at his computer screen.  The stampede isn’t visible yet, just a gathering of everyone who cares to see the newborn king.  He identifies with any of the several animals off-screen, effortlessly trying to keep up and get a glimpse.

All goes silent and the vibration of his brain is quietly cursed with the buzz of the headphones still lodged in his ears.  There’s a soft knock at the door, then Kurt’s glistening eyes peaking through the crack of Finn’s door and a half-sorry smile that can only be by way of apology.  

“Blaine?  Am I intruding on your privacy?”  Kurt tries to be funny; he sees the screen of his laptop seconds before he asks the question so he mimics Scar’s voice as much as he can.  

Blaine sits up and removes his headphones, smiling back in a sheepish way.  “No, come in.”  

Kurt pushes the door open further and lets himself inside.  “Hey.  You look so… subdued.  Not Blaine.”

Blaine only shrugs after throwing his headphones down on the ground next to the bed, a stilled Rafiki showing the world their brand new baby king.

“Blaine.  If you can’t handle just being friends-”

“No.  No Kurt, I’m fine; it’s fine.  I know you have him.  I’m just being immature seeing you with someone else for the first time.  I’ll get used to it, I swear.”

“You’re sure?  Friendships are not supposed to break people’s hearts.”

“Just something to get used to.  Sorry, I’m going to stop kissing you.”  He smiles at Kurt.  “I’m sorry about that, I couldn’t help myself.”  

Kurt laughs and sits on the edge of the bed.  “Our little secret?  Well, you and me… and Dad.  Who will probably try to warn us into the consequences of cheating in less than a half hour, but it’s not going to happen again, right?  At least not for-”

“Won’t happen again.”

“Okay.”  He stands and claps his hands once.  “So, I’m going to go get some more tiramisu for us because calories don’t count on holidays, and then maybe we can watch the rest of _The Lion King_ cuddled on Finn’s bed?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“I definitely need to moisturize tonight.”

“You don’t need to, but I’m gonna go get your pretty boy cream anyway so you can do it in here and I can watch, and you get the tiramisu.  _The Lion King_ awaits.”

Kurt nods.  “You, BFF, are a genius.”  He skips away and downstairs and Blaine can hear him humming _The Lion Sleeps Tonight_.

Blaine giggles and nods, singlehandedly forced into a better mood at just the sparkle of Kurt’s eyes.  It’s incredible, the way Blaine is affected by way of Kurt Hummel and Kurt Hummel alone.  He runs next door and starts going through Kurt’s suitcase in search for the cream but comes into contact with something much less desirable.  His curiosity gets the best of him and unfolding it nearly rips the fragile softness of the Starbucks napkin.

Somehow, he reads through the whole suicide note without a need to stop and take a minute.  Phrases like _my time without you_ and _I want to die_ physically pop off of the napkin, sending Blaine down into the dark space Kurt must have been in to write this.  He lifts his head and stares at the open door without really seeing it, knowing that Kurt is bound to find him when he doesn’t return after a few long, excruciating minutes with a bottle of expensive anti-aging moisturizer.  

_I love you more than you know_ repeats as a chant in Blaine’s head.

He feels the prickling behind his eyes, each socket slowly filling with unshed tears until his vision is a series of blurred lines and colors blending in a way that can’t possibly focus, sharp fragments of glass and forks and ends of barbed wire poked and prating his entire body to the point of comatose numbness, waiting for his living, breathing, perfect Kurt to come back to him alive and well, and explain the blasphemy that lives in this letter.  Each word on the stupid napkin is a twist of the knife lodged in the center of Blaine’s self-inflicted core.  

He drives the letter straight to the floor.  He stomps at each piece and drills a hole with the ball of his foot deeply into the core of the earth, or at least into Kurt’s bedroom floor.  He falls in front of the shreds and shapes them into a ball and throws it as hard as he can, trying his best to turn it to dust.  It’s got no substance, both figuratively and literally, so the three times he picks it up and sends it back down do no good; it floats majestically down to the floor every time.

His entire relationship with Kurt surfaces right there before his eyes as his forehead kisses the carpet and he bites his lip so hard to prevent screaming that it starts to bleed.  

Blaine knows he needs to save him, keep him alive, maintain his survival, _be there_ for him every step of the way until he is well again and for the rest of their lives.  Blaine laughs bitterly at the realization that it was always Kurt helping Blaine when, in actuality, it was Kurt who was the ticking time bomb.

He needs to remember that Kurt is more than this.  It’s hard, though, as visions of Kurt with a pair of scissors or a bottle of pills is so vivid, Blaine is second-guessing his supernatural abilities to see things that may or may not have happened.

There’s a soft, single knock on the door that carries Blaine’s interest, but only until he sees the confused yet happy look on Kurt’s face.  He immediately drives his line of vision back to the rug beneath him and shakes his head _no no no_ , attempting and failing terribly to catch his breath.  He’s been crying, that much is clear, and he can’t hide the feeling of absolute failure to save someone that only he could have saved.

“Blaine?  After years with me, I know you know the difference between… what is-” He falls to the floor on his knees in front of him and gasps when he realizes, when he _knows_ exactly what it is.  “Jesus.”  He extends his knees and lets himself plop next to Blaine.  “Honey, I-”

Blaine can feel the stare burning a hole into his heart but doesn’t dare look him in the eye.  He had let him down; he doesn’t deserve to see the beauty for himself.  

“Blaine, look at me.  I didn’t even know that was in there.”

“Kurt, please.”  His voice is caving in, pitiful, affected by every written word.  He throws himself up on his feet and looks at Kurt, studying him, the way he blinks.  “I just need a minute.”  Blaine races out of Kurt’s bedroom and into his, slamming the door and locking it behind him.  He fires himself belly-down onto the mattress and screams into the pillow, punching and flailing for the next hour and a half until his exhaustion takes him over and he slips into a fitful nap.

**xK &Bx**

When he wakes, Blaine is groggy and his crying-headache throbs like he’s embarking in a lifelong hangover.  He swallows the next set of tears and forces himself to get up.  He needs to find Advil, and quick.

He swings the door open and steps directly onto a soft piece of flesh.  Tripping over the ball of body at his doorstep, his face meets hardwood floor.  Blaine lies there for a second, groaning in pain.  “Shit.”

He props himself up and turns backward to see Kurt just springing to his feet.  He was clearly fast asleep at Blaine’s door three seconds prior.  

“Kurt?  What are you doing?”

“You locked your door.  I must have fallen asleep waiting for you to open it.”

Blaine rolls over on his back and sits up, rubbing his head where it hit.  

Kurt tilts his head.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.  I wasn’t watching where I was going.”  Blaine rises.  “Sorry.”

Kurt’s wordless response is a tight hug.  They connect physically and it’s a feeling of completion, like one half was missing for so long and they’re finally whole again, the both of them as one.  Kurt is gripping Blaine’s wrist, cutting off circulation at the artery which is ironic because Blaine’s sure he’s actually stopping the blood to his broken heart at this very second.  That would be appropriate… all things considered.  

“I didn’t think-” He lets out all of his air and slips his hand into Blaine’s, dangling their fingers together, connected finger-to-finger and wrist-to-wrist.  “Blaine, you were _not_ supposed to find that.”

“But I did. And-”

“And you can’t help but think that it’s all your fault.  You should know that I wasn’t planning to use it… anymore.”  

Blaine shrugs and allows Kurt to lead him back to his bedroom.  They head straight to the bed without consultation from the other.  Lying close feels… nice.

Blaine grunts and rests his head on the pierce of Kurt’s collarbone.  “I’m really mad at you.”  He pouts.  He feels like a child.

“I know you are.”  Kurt brushes some of Blaine’s curls out of his face.  “You have a bump on your head.”

Blaine fishes his hand out from under Kurt and dabs at his head, shamelessly checking for blood.  “Is that letter all you were going to leave me with?”  He places his head back on Kurt’s shoulder and hugs around his waist with his arm.

“Yeah, I guess it was.  But it doesn’t matter, the plans aren’t… I’m not-”

Blaine sits up and folds his legs under his torso, staring at Kurt all the while as he repositions himself on his back and folds at the waist to face him.

“Four years in a serious relationship, the worst breakup in the history of terrible breakups, and I get _a letter_ about how you wish it could be different?”

“And this is why I never gave it to you.”

“No, you never gave it to me because you never went through with killing yourself, Kurt!”  He leans the palms of his hands on Kurt’s Indian-styled knees and tilts his head.  “What were you thinking, Kurt?  Fuck!”

“When I followed you to the condo and you were playing that song, I knew you still had hope and that gave _me_ hope so although I said goodbye to you that night, I called off the plans.  I had already pushed them back a few times by then anyway; I had originally planned to do it the day after he proposed.  I wrote that letter to you about twenty minutes after I ran out of the park, and right before I called you.”

“And then what?”

“You answered your phone.  Without ever being aware, you saved my life.”  Kurt has the decency to shrug.

“I knew there was something wrong.”  He responds, as though he’s being accused of something terrible, like saving Kurt’s life.  “You hadn’t been in touch for so long prior, and I just knew it was you, seeing that unknown number.  What if I decided that you weren’t worth answering anymore or something?”

“Then I would have gone through with my decision to kill myself, because a world where you don’t think I’m worth it… it’s hardly a world to live in, B.”  Kurt shrugs again.  “That night in the condo, you know that saying… if you love something, let it go?  It’s what I did with you, and here you are anyway.  I had a pretty good feeling that we were meant to be, but I just had to make sure.”

“Kurt.”  Blaine looks up at him through his lashes and although his heart isn’t in it entirely, he smiles.  “That is seriously risky business you were playing.  It’s not a fucking game, but I get it.  I really can’t do this without you either.  But baby, you can’t just… decide to die because things aren’t going your way.”

Kurt picks up both of their hands, still a tangled mess and kisses the back of them.  “I’m not going anywhere, not anymore.  You stopped it, whether you realize it or not.”

“What the hell are we doing, Kurt?  How is this any different from when we were together?”  

“Everything we’ve ever done has always been so intense.”

“Understatement of your life and you know it.”

Kurt intertwines their fingers together tighter and rests their hands down on his lap.  ”Let me have this half-ass relationship with Oli for a while?  I don’t know what happens next, but I know that I need a chance to just fuck around for a bit.  I’ve never had that, not once.”

“ _That_ is not what you need.”

“I know I said that I wasn’t ready for _him_ to be serious, but what I meant was that I’m not ready for a serious relationship with anyone… even you, right now.  It’s simple to train him to refrain from it because he’s never had it before with me.  It’ll be too easy for you and I to fall back into our old ways, and I’m not ready for that yet.  Please.”

“Do you remember the night you came back to the Bean after your little date thing and you bent me over the counter, the night we got together for real?  Before you fucked me senseless…” Blaine grins.  He can’t seem to get enough of the blush rising high on Kurt’s cheeks. “You checked in with me before the sex and you kissed the tip of my nose. Kurt, seconds before you fucked me until I was numb… you were making sure I was okay.  That whole night… it was an oxymoron.”

“I have such an intellectual crush on you.  My adorable little English major.”

“Mmmm.  Want me to teach you all sorts of language rules?”

They stare at each other, breathing in the moment, and wordlessly pick up each other’s pieces.  Blaine quickly decides that they’ve become even closer because of this one conversation they desperately needed to talk out anyway.  

Kurt steals him from his train of thought by saying the only words that matter.  “This is why I’m in love with you.”

Blaine smiles at him.  “Why?”

“I just said that I’m not ready for whatever we’re destined to be yet and you accepted it.  You’ve matured so much since twenty-thirteen, Blaine.  I loved you back then; don’t get me wrong.  But this version of you?  I’m pretty sure you’ve evolved into perfection.”

“I’m not perfect, pretty.”

“And to think that I thought you were five years ago, if only for being obsessed with me.  I secretly loved that, you know.”  

“I was definitely infatuated with you back then… after you saved me from jail, after you hired me to keep me on point with probation… but that was the night I saw a life with you as a possibility.  Not just a life, but… growing old with you.  Or… catching up to your age while you wait patiently for me, anyway.”  Blaine bumps his shoulder with Kurt’s.  “None of this losing you after only a couple of years due to a swift slit of the wrist or some shit.”

Kurt smiles.  “Mmmm.  See?  Intense.  You were eighteen.”

“Yeah, but… Kurt, that’s our dynamic; it’s what we are.  How can it not be intense when we both love each other as deeply as we do?”

“A happy medium.  It should all be hills and valleys.  Only intense when it needs to be overwhelming.”

“Or maybe it should just be what it’s destined to be?  Stop trying to alter what’s supposed to happen.”

“Hey.  You moved, not me.”

“Fine.”  There’s a beat.  “You were on the road to kill yourself and fate somehow put me in your way to give you hope or whatever and you are still resisting the fact that we’re meant to be.  You know it; I know it.  Stop fucking around and be with me.”  He says it so desperately; he almost cringes from the sound of his voice.  “Sorry, babe.  I do accept that you’re not ready.  I guess I just don’t understand why.”

Blaine watches as Kurt wrings together his own fingers, a nervous gesture he’s been catching a lot of lately.

“B, I am begging you to wait for me.  In the grand scheme of things, a few months aren’t anything at all.”

“But in the moment, they’re everything.”  Impatient teenager: that’s all Blaine will ever be to Kurt, he’s sure of it.  “Look, I believe in us and if you don’t-”

“Okay, Socrates.  Chill out for a minute and just sit here with me.  We end up together; you know that.  You said it yourself.  Fifty years from now, we’ll be laughing about this exact conversation, right?  You said that.”

Blaine huffs and rolls his eyes.  “But how long do I have to wait to continue my life with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  Kurt shrugs and grins when Blaine rolls his eyes harder as a response. 

Blaine mumbles.  He’s back in his teenage mindset, if only for a moment.  “I hate you.”

“And I love you!”  Kurt attacks Blaine’s cheek with a thousand kisses.  “Hey.”  He looks into Blaine’s eyes and tilts his head.  “I’m fine now, promise.  You made me fine and all you did was show your presence and bam, you saved my life.  _You_ did that.  Not Oliver, not my dad, not anyone in New York.  That was all you.”

Blaine laughs and pulls away.  “I’m getting whiplash with all my feelings and… let’s accept the situation as it is for now.  Deal?”

“Aww, best baby boyfriend ever.”

“I’m not your boyfriend, Hummel.”  Blaine springs up and holds out his hand to help Kurt up.  

“Keep thinking about those times I fucked you senseless, then, _Anderson_.”  He launches up, teasing and grinning.

“Oh my God.  You kiss your father with that mouth?”

“Hell no, he doesn’t.”  Burt cackles, clearly taking pride in watching Kurt turn an entirely different shade of red, one that’s never been seen before.  “Boys.”

Kurt and Blaine stare at Burt, big and scary, and actually sort of intimidating right now.  Blaine innocently slips his arm around Kurt’s.  He needs the protection.

“Sit!”

They comply immediately.  Blaine goes to the computer chair and dangles his legs over the arm, sitting sideways with his ass at the edge of the cushion.  Kurt sits Indian-styled on the corner of the bed.  Burt attaches his fists to his hips and stares at them both.  

“Burt, before you say anything.  What you saw downstairs before was a total miscommunication on my part.  We talked about it and it won’t happen again.”

“That’s good, kid.  If that’s what you two want, whatever makes you happy.  I’m actually here to talk about something a little more serious than that.”

“What’s up, Dad?”  Kurt gets nervous.  “Is everything okay?”

“I just got an email from the Warden at Lucasville.”

“Fuck.  He’s getting out early?”  Blaine guesses.

“No, son.  He’s um… shit.  He was beaten to the last inch of his life last night and he’s in critical condition at the hospital there.”

“Oh!  Well, that’s convenient.”  He looks at Kurt and shrugs.  “At least I won’t have to do it when he gets out.  Thanks, Burt.  I’m gonna… there’s Coke downstairs, yeah?”  Blaine gets up and rushes down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he quickly finds himself struggling with a stupid, sweaty can of Coke.  He slams it down on the counter and leans over it, balancing his head in his hands and his elbows on the granite.  

**xK &Bx**

Kurt gives him a few minutes to process then heads downstairs to settle the pit in Blaine’s stomach; Kurt’s sure there must be one.  “Blaine.”  Kurt looks at him, trying to convey the seriousness he means as he takes the soda can and pops the top with ease, putting it back on the counter so hopefully Blaine will realize it’s there.  “Honey, you-”

Blaine stands up straight and folds his arms, soda and counter clearly forgotten.  “Kurt, please.  Honestly, I don’t really care, but it’s just making me think about that _one_ time when he beat you up and that’s why I’m upset.  He sent the only person I’ve ever loved to the hospital in critical condition.  Maybe by him being there, he’ll be able to feel half of what we went through.”

“Blaine.  Revenge is not-”

“No!  Fuck him.  I hope he dies.”  Kurt experiences the burn from Blaine’s glare as he opens his mouth to say something and closes it quickly.  “I just… he was never what I needed in a dad so I really don’t care.”

“He’s still your father, babe.”  

“There is a difference between a dad and a father.  I don’t expect you to understand, Kurt; I’m happy you don’t, actually.  Burt is amazing.”

Burt pats Blaine on the shoulder; it appears that he’s heard the whole conversation.  “The Warden suggested that you might want to think about visiting him at the hospital, for closure.  It really doesn’t look good.”

“I’ll consider it.  Thanks, Burt.”

“Okay… goodnight, boys.”  Burt seems apprehensive to leave but eventually turns and disappears back up the stairs.

“B?”

“Pretty, I really don’t want to talk about it.  I need to go call my brother, and I’m still processing our conversation about me saving your life or whatever the fuck.  So if you don’t mind-”

“I’ll come with you to the hospital if you want.”

“No you won’t.  Even if I were to go, I would not bring you.  I can’t subject us to all of that again, especially at Thanksgiving.  Okay?  I love you for trying to be strong for me but I really don’t need that.  Not from you.”

“I can protect myself, and I want to be there... for you.”

“This isn’t fucking about you, Kurt!”  Blaine yells and draws back when Kurt shakes in alarm.  He brings his voice down to normal.  “I’m sorry.  Fuck, I’m so sorry.  Look, if I saw him again, I think I would just kill him myself.”

“I’ll go with you.  I’ll hold you back.  I’ll keep you grounded.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kurt.”

“Try me.”

“You are the most frustrating… I couldn’t fall in love with an easy, little boy who listens to me when I say no, huh?”

Kurt raises his eyebrows and tilts his head.  

Blaine sighs and continues.  “Look.  Every bad decision I’ve ever made was somehow related to him and I can’t really deal with the pressure of a possible trigger in your brain.  _This_ is what it does to me, conversations about him… it makes me freak out completely and the hatred I have for him becomes uncontrollable and I just want to die so I don’t have to _feel_ it anymore.”

Kurt stares at him, wide-eyed with his mouth gaped open just a bit.  “You’re carrying around a lot of unnecessary guilt, Blaine.”

“You think?” Blaine shoots him a signature bitch face he could have only learned from Kurt Hummel himself. 

“Okay.  Here’s what we’re gonna do.”  Kurt approaches, getting dangerously close, and places his hand on the small of Blaine’s back.  “I’m gonna get you upstairs and I’ll tuck you into bed and then I’ll disappear for a while.  Give you some space?  Okay?”

“Kurt, I’m sorry.  I just…” He lets out a deep sigh and shrugs.  

Kurt feels the burn in his throat and he knows he’s about to break down any second as he leads Blaine back up the stairs and into his room.

Kurt can only smile at him and go along with his promise.  He leads the beautiful, broken boy up the stairs and forces him under the covers.  He kisses the top of his head and disappears.

**xK &Bx**

Immediately following the closed door in front of him, Blaine breaks.  His soul is fractured, drowning in the detached and frozen feeling he’s found at the mere mention of Christian Anderson.  

He can’t feel sorry for himself anymore, regardless of how many walls suffocated him in his earlier years or how intensely he wishes Christian dead after all these years.  This is the hand of cards he’s been dealt and rather than regret how he’s turned out, he embraces the fact that he’s currently in the house of the one person who can drag him out of this.  

To fix is to be broken, so he clears the desk swiftly, sending his laptop, phone, and a few empty Coke cans plummeting to the ground below him.  Bending at the waist, he picks up the cans and smashes them against the wall, one by one and the next with more force than the last.

“Fuck you!  You fucking piece of shit!  You’ll never die; you’ll outlive all of us, I know it!”  Blaine falls to the ground and cradles his own head against the side of the mattress and sobs, wishing death on Christian and anyone the prick has ever loved.  

Five minutes pass before he’s stable again.  He rids himself of his pride and he knocks on the door where Kurt is pointedly waiting out the panic attack and lets himself in with just a warning.  Blaine smiles at the realization of Kurt just knowing when to give him a minute.  

**xK &Bx**

Kurt grunts minutely to push his door open and falls facedown on his bed.  He cries quietly as he listens to the destruction of fire and fury of Blaine’s soul next door.

His door creaks as it opens and turquoise meets gold.  Blaine is the epitome of tiny and broken boy with nowhere to turn except home as he sinks onto the mattress and into Kurt’s arms.

“Be with me, pretty boy.”

“Blaine, I-”

Blaine takes his hand and intertwines their fingers as his other hand finds its way to the dark circles under Kurt’s eyes.  Blaine’s thumb swipes to dry his tears and he says,  “Just lie here with me.”  

Kurt watches as he positions himself better, shuffling all the way over to cuddle up against the wall.  His nose is inches from touching it and he makes a point to hug into himself around his own waist.  Kurt is watching diligently, Blaine must know, so he is sure to say his words a bit more pronounced than he normally would without a wall in his face.  “I need you, Kurt.”

Kurt’s breath hitches.  He shifts his weight and squeezes around Blaine’s chest, palming it possessively.  There are chaste kisses placed on Blaine’s back, and that’s all that Kurt can do to comfort him tonight.  

They lie together silently, no movement to a single muscle, entirely in sync and aligned in their thoughts within each other.  

They’re totally synchronous until Blaine uncharacteristically, at least for today, giggles.  Kurt raises an eyebrow, which only causes an adorable bark of laughter and a snort immediately following it.

Blaine’s laugh is contagious.  Kurt’s shoulders vibrate with a mute laugh and love in his eyes. “What is wrong with you?”

Blaine turns in Kurt’s arms and grins.  The words of the song he sings through giggles should not be such a surprise to Kurt.

_You’re in the arms of the angel_   
_May you find some comfort here_

Kurt stares at Blaine with a straight face and then breaks down into sincere giggles.  “You are the cheesiest.”

“Still love it?”

“Always.”  He squeezes at Blaine’s waist again, instructing him to turn back around and enjoy the cuddles.  

“Pretty?”

“Mmm.”

“What do you think about all of this?”

“Of your dad getting beat up?”  Kurt can’t help but nibble a bit at Blaine’s ear; _it’s right there_.  “I’m surprised it took this long, and I’m really happy someone else did it because that means you don’t have to go fuck up your life.  And your fists are still in pretty good condition.” 

Blaine hums; he’s clearly considering the wording of the next question.  “Um, if you were me, would you go see him?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Blaine.”

“I mean… if you were me, and your family situation was mine and your dad almost killed the person you loved just for, just for loving… would you go to visit him on his death bed or would you just… forget about everything and move on?”

“I would go, because I _personally_ wouldn’t be able to move on without the closure.”  There’s a beat.  “Think of it like this… if he’s in critical condition like they say, he probably wouldn’t be able to say much anyway.”

“I have a feeling his pain tolerance is… the hospital says it’s critical condition but for him, it’s just a paper cut on his knuckle.”

“I’ll have you know those hurt like a bitch.”

“Uh huh.”  Blaine smiles.

“When will you understand that I’m not leaving you alone in any of this?”

“I do know that, pretty.”  Blaine gets up and sits Indian-styled on the mattress.  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”  Kurt follows suit.  “Because I love you.”

This isn’t a surprise, but Blaine tilts his head and wills away the tears anyway. 

“You do know that, don’t you?”

“No matter what?  Even if I decide not to go see him?”

“In my eyes, Blaine Anderson can do no wrong.  Not anymore.”

“Mmmm.”

“This does not give you a free pass to do whatever you want.”

Blaine gives him a pointed look and rolls his eyes.  “Do you understand why I’m apprehensive to see him?”

“No.  But I don’t have to.  This is your life we’re talking about, and if you don’t want to go then you don’t have to go.  Keep in mind, though… once he’s gone, that’s it.  There’s no wishing him back, as much as you think that you would never need him around.  There may come a day years down the road when you just want to say something to him, good or bad, and he won’t be there.”  Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and squeezes.  “Don’t regret not making your words spoken.”

“I know you’re speaking from experience, but I’m sure your mom was so much better than Christian.  No offense or anything, but you don’t have any experience in this particular issue I am dealing with.”  

“You don’t have to think about it now.  Just… let’s nap and think about it later.”

“Pretty.”

“Mmmm?” 

“Try not to have too many nightmares tonight?  It breaks my heart when… I’m right here, okay?”

“Love you, B.  Get some sleep.”

“I love you, pretty.”

They’re fast asleep before there’s another breath of response, snuggled into each other with each piece of their hearts on their sleeves.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

After one full-fledged nightmare that leaves Kurt a blubbering mess, screaming and sobbing into Blaine, and a thirty-minute discussion between both of them and Cooper, Blaine finally makes his decision to visit with his father in the hospital.  Although the phone call with Cooper is mostly of the teasing variety about Kurt and Blaine’s proximity, the point is that Blaine should see Christian for the sake of closing old doors to open new ones.  

As they work to fall back asleep, Blaine grabs at Kurt’s fingers and squeezes them like a lifeline.  He’s as ready as he’ll ever be to face his fears because he has Kurt at his side.  

They shower separately almost immediately after waking, more like roommates than the lovers they aren’t.  They dance around each other, stealing glances in the mirror, as they fix their hair and brush their teeth.  They’re together like always but this time also painfully separate.

“Still want to do this?”  Kurt grabs his toothbrush and looks at Blaine as he’s fixing his unruly curls for the twentieth time.  

“Kurt.”

Kurt shoves his toothbrush in his mouth and starts to scrub his teeth but stops to ignore Blaine’s small plea to shut up.  “You’re doing this for you, right?  You’re not chasing the idea because Coop suggested that you should?  You actually want to?”

Blaine shrugs and looks at him through the mirror.  “Honestly?  I’m not sure yet.  I don’t know if I want to go.”

Kurt wipes his mouth.  “We don’t have to, you know.  Don’t feel like you’ve committed just because you told Coop you would.  We can just do something else, or nothing.  Or we can drive there and sit in the parking lot and come home.”  He rinses, spits, and repeats. 

“We’re so fucking domestic.”

“Ah, the Blaine Anderson conversation shut down by way of changing the subject.  Don’t you dare think that I don’t know what you’re doing every time.”  Kurt smiles and shakes his hips a little too dramatically as he leaves the bathroom.  “Ready when you are, B.”

“To clarify, I’m ready for a lot of things with you and you know how I can’t stand sexual tension.”  Blaine follows Kurt out into his bedroom and Kurt can feel eyes staring into the muscles in Kurt’s back as he pulls a Henley shirt over his tight and teased chest.  

Kurt laughs at the sight of Blaine’s slack jaw when he turns around.  “Do you love me, Blaine?”

Blaine raises an eyebrow. “Mmhmm… of course I do.”  

Kurt tilts his head and takes a step toward Blaine.  He smiles; he loves teasing a clearly sexually frustrated ex-boyfriend.  “Do you wanna kiss me?”

“Kurt.”  Blaine laughs.  He steps forward and fishes his hands through the holes of Kurt’s shirt, grasping at both elbows with his palms.

“You’re going to stretch it.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told I’m good at that.”

“You are crude, Blaine Anderson.  Stop.”

“I’ll show you.  Make you remember how good I can make you feel?”  He nips at Kurt’s jawbone.  “Please, pretty.  Want you so bad.”

“We need to go see your father.”  Kurt subconsciously opens up access to his neck for better access on Blaine’s part.  He whispers.  “It’s a long drive; we should get going.”

“Do you prefer Oliver?  Is that why we haven’t fucked?”  Blaine steps away and raises an eyebrow; it’s a challenge of what Kurt should say versus what he’d want to.

Kurt stares for a minute, seemingly taking it all in.  He squints at Blaine and tilts his head.  “Blaine, please.  You know that I wish I could just be with you.  It’s not that simple.”

“It can be if you let go of all the bullshit.”  Blaine approaches him again and palms Kurt’s cock through his sinfully tight skinny jeans.  “I know you want me, too.  I just can’t figure out why you’re _still_ resisting it.”

Kurt gasps and pulls away.  “Because the love I have for you is so thick and complicated and, like, iridescent.  It physically blinds me and until I can get a grip on exactly what I should do versus what I want to do, I’m saying no.  I’m not saying not ever, I’m just...”

“You’re just playing another fucking game with me to see how long I’ll hang on.”

“Seriously, B.  Stop.  You are upsetting me on a day that’s already going to be difficult for everyone.  Can we just go?”

“Yep, sure.  Whatever.”  

**xK &Bx**

The long ride to the hospital in Lucasville is tense, full of words and explanations that aren’t being said, sitting sourly in the air almost physically visible.  Blaine can tell that Kurt is thinking about something, like he wants to say something to define the reasons behind his outright refusal or the fact that he’s driving closer and closer to his attacker.  He feels the choking, palpable mystery in the air as the miles roll on; he shifts in his seat as though that will cure his uncomfortable state.

“You can say it, Kurt.”

“Huh?”  Kurt switches the radio’s volume to low.  “Say what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“My favorite part about you is how well you know me.”  Kurt smiles and continues.  “I guess I’m just concerned that I won’t be able to help you after you see him. Like, the aftermath, and I know there’ll be some type of aftermath that I can’t properly plan for.  I’m trying to preplan how to fix you without knowing how broken you’ll be.”

Blaine is so vain, he’s still caught up on the reasons why Kurt clearly doesn’t want to have sex with him.  

Maybe Kurt _is_ thinking about ways to fix him when he leaves his father later, but Blaine knows there’s more.  “You make me sound so weak.”

“No.  You’re singlehandedly the strongest person I have ever laid eyes on, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling absolutely wrecked and useless when something like this is out of your control.  I love you, you know, and I just want to protect you from the shitty cards you’ve been dealt.”  Kurt takes Blaine’s hand.  “I can’t help myself but think that you’re only punishing yourself further because Coop and I suggested this.  You didn’t do anything wrong and you don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to.”

Blaine sighs.  “My favorite part about you is your ass.”  At Kurt’s giggle, he laughs and keeps going.  “But a close second is how well you know me, too.  Seriously.”

Kurt pulls into the hospital’s parking lot and cuts the engine.  “Game plan?” 

“My cock gets unbearably hard when you reference sports.”

“Blaine, be serious.  Think about the issue at hand.  What are you planning to do?  Do you want me to come inside with you?”

“Wh-what?”  Blaine’s eyes widen.  “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Do you want me to… visit with your father?  Do you need me to accompany you within the hospital for moral support?”  Kurt blushes.

He laughs nervously.  “Oh.  Sorry, I just…” He forces himself to think of something else, and quickly.

Blaine thinks back to the time he visited his father in prison, a time of “closure” as well.  He didn’t ask Kurt to come inside, but he did anyway and he was shaking like a log the entire time.  He won’t put him through that fear again.  “No, babe.  You stay here.  I’ll want to make a quick getaway afterwards, so I need you ready.  I’m just going to talk him through a few things on my mind and leave.  This won’t take too long.”

Kurt nods.  “I’m proud of you.”  He pulls him into a tight hug over the middle console.  “Knock ’em dead, killer.”

Blaine laughs and wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls back and opens the door.

“I do not mean that figuratively.  Please don’t make me use our entire wedding fund as bail money.  Just… back him into the corner with your fancy words.  For both of us.”

“Okay.  See you in a bit.”  Blaine gets out of the car and stares at the hospital, utterly uninviting and soaking in despair.  He climbs back into the passenger seat of Kurt’s car and plants a hard kiss on his lips, holding his head in place forcefully by the sides of his cheek and _everything_.  “Wait, what wedding fund?”  

Kurt laughs and nods.  “I clearly did not mean to say that but yeah.  It’s always been the wedding fund.  I opened an account the week before we moved to New York.”

“Kurt, if that is your idea of a proposal, I’ll need to second guess if I’d ever known you at all.”

“That was the placeholder for something fabulous.”

“Okay.”  Blaine kisses Kurt one more time.  “What’s mine is yours, though.  We have _millions_ for a wedding, baby.  Hey, remember when I said I’d stop kissing you?”  He winks and shuffles to his feet, never lifting them until he’s standing exactly where he’s supposed to be, several flights up in the hospital full of the weak and sick.

Blaine takes a deep breath in front of the closed hospital room door.  He peaks through the window to see a dark and lonely space, and he envisions his father sitting back against dreadfully flat and uncomfortable pillows against the wall he can’t see, impatiently tapping his foot and waiting for _anyone_ to come see him.  He pauses and shifts on his feet and nods at the police officer stationed on the side of the door.  He knows he doesn’t owe his father anything this side of sanity, but he’s doing what he has to for the sake of moving on at last.

Christian Anderson doesn’t deserve even a halfway polite knock so Blaine barges in without warning.  He’s proud to do what he wants.  To his surprise, he’s not hanging onto the last inch of his life at all; Christian is wide-awake and seemingly emotionally unscathed, at least from what Blaine can see.  _Fuck._

Father and son are both under a stone-cold scrutiny.  Blaine’s sixteen all over again as he quickly drops his eyes to the tile on the floor.  He’s completely over his head and this is officially the worst idea he’s ever thought to have.  He looks back to where the door is closing slowly but surely due to the pressure of the lock and the door’s weight, but can only see it as a barrier.  In this room, he can say whatever he needs to and not get beat up for it.  He glances to Christian’s wrist and where it’s locked to the armrest of the hospital bed; Blaine can’t get hurt in Christian’s presence, for the first time in his life.

He sees the military-styled cop stands completely still in a stance he’s never imagined to see outside of an actual war; he wonders why the fuck he came here in the first place.  Kurt kept saying Blaine should go for the sake of _courage and closure_ and Coop said to vocalize all the things that should be said once and for all, but he’s not entirely sure any of that is needed in this moment.  Ideally, he’d like to get in and out as quickly as possible so he sets his jaw and wills himself to just get through it.

He’s here now, standing in front of a man who almost took everything from him, and he decides not to back down like he had so many other times growing up.  Besides, he knows that Kurt will be on the other end to pick up the pieces he shatters along the way.  Two oversized steps are all it takes to crowd into the window overlooking the parking lot.  Immediately finding Kurt’s car, he knows that his words must come because Kurt’s can’t.  Kurt: the man who would have selflessly come upstairs and into the hospital to offer Blaine support if he had asked the right way.  Kurt:  the bravest man Blaine will ever know, the one man he would willingly give his life for.  Even if they never get together again, he will have loved and lived because of Kurt.  He owes him this much.  

He doesn’t want to make it entirely about Kurt, though, so he tries to find a balance to speak for the both of them, hurt in especially unique ways but for the same reasons.  He coughs to hide a sob lodged in the back of his throat.  Puffing his chest out and folding his arms across the most blown out part of it, he sidesteps over and around to the bed so that the un-handcuffed arm is just out of reach.  

“I’m here to tell you that you deserved every fucking thing you got in prison as well as anything else that puts you on the receiving end of any terrible thing from now until the day you drop dead.  And to let you know that you didn’t break me and you definitely didn’t break my Kurt.”

“Still with that old man?  What is he now, forty?  He’s almost as old as I am, isn’t he, faggot?”

“Any of the problems we’ve had have nothing to do with you.  I won’t give you the satisfaction.”  

Actually, Christian is the core of everything bad in Blaine’s life and he’s shocked that he’s taken this long to realize that.  Blaine should continue and say, _“Actually.  Come to think of it, fuck it.  It was all because of you.  Every tear either of us had ever cried came from your evil ashes of a heart.  No one is as terrorizing or fucked up as you and you were the root of all evil in our lives for a very long time, both separately and together, and it eventually strained our relationship so much that we couldn’t take it anymore.  So yeah, I lost the one person who’s ever loved me and who I’ve ever loved because of you.  Even if you didn’t kill him, you killed a little piece of me and I will never be the same because of you.”_

Instead, he says nothing, but he’s clearly working through something in his head.  Both men stay eerily quiet for upwards of four excruciating minutes.  

Blaine paces the length of the bed a few times in an attempt to articulate exactly what he wants to say without getting too worked up.  He needs to take this slow since he doesn’t plan on ever seeing his father again.

“Kurt is… the love of my life, Dad.  He is right downstairs waiting for me because the love we have for each other has been tested and proven to be unbreakable.  He’s the one who turned my life around and supported me through all your shit, and he’s the one that you almost killed so you deserve every aching bone in your disgusting, disheveled, _profligate_ body and I’m not sorry for anything that ever happened to me because of you, because it was all part of this journey that led me to the one single person who could ever turn it around for me.”

Blaine rolls his eyes at himself, feeling the shakes of his voice overcome him.  He takes a breath to prevent the paralyzing thoughts to stop right there.  He continues.

“I couldn’t offer him a damn thing back then, but he stayed with me, anyway, for years.  He dealt with my stubborn ass when I said _no cops_ every single fucking time you laid a hand on me, and he literally picked me up off the side of the road, and he cleaned me up himself on his couch and then he pretended he couldn’t hear me crying in his bed, even after his pillows were soaked.  You and Mom destroyed me to my core and for more than half of my life; I thought that was my destiny.  That was just how it was supposed to be, but all of your bullshit led me straight to Kurt.  My Kurt, who taught me that I deserved love, and it wasn’t this distant thing I would never get my hands on.  He did that.  Not you, not my poor excuse for a mother.  Kurt showed me that, and he says I showed him right back even when I was at my lowest.  So, I’m here to thank you for absolutely nothing and to just... try to find some closure, I guess.  So good luck with all of this.”  He motions in disgust toward his father’s casts, and black eyes, and gauze around his head and ribs.  “And every time you move even one muscle and wince in pain, you think of me because it took a hell of a lot longer to heal emotionally than it did physically and I am finally accepting of myself without your approval I fought for so long ago.”

Christian only scoffs and rolls his eyes but Blaine thinks he might actually see a tear rolling down his bruised and battered cheek.  He’s so proud of himself, especially since he hadn’t gone completely out of control.  He’s concentrating on holding it all together at least until he leaves the hospital.

“You are an awful person who doesn’t deserve to survive any of this.  You’re nothing to me but a weak coward who picks on people who can’t possibly fight you back.  You are a bully; a jealous bully who beats your own son down to size for being something you never expected.  I threw a wrench in your life with being gay and you didn’t know how to fix it, so you tried to beat it out of me.  But guess what, father?  I’m still so beyond gay, it’ll make your head explode, and I’m hopelessly in love with a man who loves me back in the same, intense, mind-blowing way.  And oh my God, Dad.  He taught me everything I know about love, physically and emotionally.”

He smirks at Christian’s disgusted face.  He can’t stop now.

“So go get fucked up the ass in prison, douchebag.  Trust me, it starts to feel good after you get used to the intrusion.  Although, I doubt your cellmates have the incredibly soft, delicate fingers my man has.  So you should be careful.  Wouldn’t want them to tear anything… instrumental to the use of your intestines.”  Blaine ends the conversation by spitting as much phlegm as he could possibly cough up into Christian’s face.  He twirls on the ball of his foot and walks out as if he’s the most unaffected person to have ever walked the hospital hallway, disappearing into the turn of the elevator deck.

He makes a beeline for Kurt’s car, inspired enough to jog and rip Kurt out of the car and kiss him hard on the mouth and beg him (again) to be with him (again).  He startles when Kurt’s body goes flying up from the seat that must have been reclined all the way.  He tilts his head and grins at Kurt through the window, throws the door open and yanks him out of the driver’s seat.  

**xK &Bx**

Kurt watches the grainy video in Willa’s text message straight from the Brooklyn Bean in New York.  He taps his phone to his chin, staring into outer space, a compilation of stars and moons never able to tell him what to do.  _Why can’t someone tell me what to do?_

Although his own relationship with Santana has been strained since Blaine’s surprise visit to the loft, Kurt has been able to truly befriend her girlfriend, Willa.  He checks up on Santana through Willa frequently, easily enough given the fact that Willa is his employee at the Lima Bean.

For now, though, he only needs to know details of how Willa and Santana stumbled upon a seemingly cheating (if there is any indication through the video) Oliver.  Without even letting a simple hello out of Willa’s mouth, he speaks quickly as soon as he hears the call connect.  “Willa, I swear to God if I find out you are lying or if Santana put you up to this because of all the time I’m spending with Bl-”

“Kurt, trust me.  I know she’s gonna be all over it and I thought you might want to handle this quietly before she got off work.  I’m kinda surprised she hasn’t tried to call you about it.  I’m back at your place waiting for her now.”

The words sting when Willa says them; the condo on 70th and Broadway is not Kurt’s place anymore.  Maybe it will be again one day, but he doesn’t let himself think about it too much.  He sighs. “I don’t live there anymore, honey.  Just… you aren’t fucking with me?”

“No!  Of course not.  He’s so creepy, Kurt… and Santana nearly knocked him out but I convinced her we should hide and get the cocksucker on tape because I knew you wouldn’t believe us.”

“I believe you.  He’s been really possessive over the time I’ve been spending with Blaine, so yeah… I believe you.”

Kurt finds himself rocking crazily to the sounds of the Lucasville Life Center parking lot, patiently waiting for his Blaine to return emotionally undamaged, staring at his cell phone as Oliver continues to beep in on call waiting as he speaks with Willa on speakerphone.  This is the sixth voicemail that Kurt will delete without listening; he’s not sure he cares enough to hear the explanation.

Then the text messages begin.

**Oliver:  I know you know, Kurt.  Let me explain.**

Sure, it hurts being cheated on no matter who the cheater is.  It’s not earth shattering, though, as it was when Blaine left him.  He’s comparing again.

“You only believe me because you have the video now.”  The mutual silence proves that much is true.  “Are you okay, Hummel?”

“Yeah, yeah.  I’ll be fine.  I’m going to call Santana.  If she’ll answer.”

**Oliver:  Kurt, please.  I love you.**

“That’s a good idea.”  Kurt can almost see Willa’s grin on the other side.  “What are you going to do about Oliver?”

“Well, for starters – and don’t mock my craziness here – but I’m going to go on like nothing happened.  I can’t be single right now.”

**Oliver:  He’s just my old college roommate.**

“Tana said you’d probably say that.  It has to do with Blaine, doesn’t it?  She talks about him like he’s God.”

Kurt laughs.  “You’ll understand when you meet him.  He’s been really good for all of us.  I promise he’s worth it for me.”  He inhales, allowing the air to jump out of him intermittently.  “The Bean is all good?”

**Oliver:  You would have been with us if you were here, instead of taking care of your ex.**

“The Bean is fine.  Please call me if you need anything at all, okay?”

“Of course, honey.  Thanks for keeping an eye out.”

“Talk soon.”  
  
Kurt says bye and spends a few minutes of much-needed distraction on lowering the driver’s seat until it’s almost fully horizontal and he’s staring through the skylight of the shiny, new BMW sedan.  He can still see enough out of the window to keep a lookout for Blaine.  He calls Santana and waits through the ringing.

“Can I say I fucking told you so now or what?  Not that I was trolling him all around the city, but I had a fucking feeling, Lady.”

“Willa tells me you talk about Blaine like he’s God.  You know I don’t believe in God, Tana.  That’s a terrible way to suggest I don’t believe in somebody I love very much.”

Santana squeals.  “Does that mean what I think it means?”  There’s a beat.  “You guys are good?  How’s Ohio?”

“Loaded question, Striptease.”

Santana laughs.  “Take me through it?  Where are you?  You know I hate being called while Blaine fucking Anderson is underneath your sweaty, old body.”

Kurt makes it a point to always ignore every crude comment she offers.  “Lucasville.  Christian Anderson was beat up in prison and the Warden told B basically that if he had any last words or whatever to say to him, he should do it now.  So here I am, sitting in the car waiting for him to come back so we can get the hell away from his father once and for all.”

“Shit.  Are you okay?  Is _he_ okay?”

“I don’t know, apparently he’s on his deathbed, which is ironic if you ask me.”

“Not him, idiot.  Do you really think I care about him?  How’s Anderballs?”

“Oh, right.  _Blaine_ will be okay, I think.  He’s inside visiting now, and I’m waiting in the car.  We’ve had a good couple of days, for the most part.”  He sighs.  “There has been some kissing.”  Kurt inhales.  “I’m getting closer to trying again.”

“Yes!  All the irrational and disgusting sparks as always?  No nightmares because obviously you two spent some time horizontally glued to each other as any other pair of ex-boyfriends would over the holidays.”  

If Kurt has to pick one incredibly amazing thing about Santana that he loves the most, it’s that they pick up right where they left off after every single argument.

“ _Santana_.”  He sighs again.  “Of course there are nightmares.  Have you met me?”  There’s a beat.  “Are you moving back to Brooklyn now that we love each other again?  Sorry, by the way.”

“Fuck, no!  Not until you turn the second bedroom on 70th Street into a fucking nursery.  I love the high life, Hummel.”

“Shut up.  It’s not that serious.”  _Yet_.

“Whatever.  You assholes give me a lot of hope in the love department, so you better be all shacked up and obsessed with each other soon.” 

There’s a comfortable silence.  This is his second favorite part about Santana.  She actually does know when to shut up, although she doesn’t really think about it all the time.

“What?”  She asks.  She obviously wants to know what he’s thinking.  She can’t read his mind.

“I’m not going to break up with Oliver.”  He offers, his voice going quiet to the point where Santana probably has to strain to hear the words.  

“Kurt!  Dude-”

“Hear me out!  If I break up with him, I’ll be single.  If I’m single around Blaine, you know just as well as I do that it would be equally as toxic as it was before.  We’d just fall right back into what we used to be without any preamble and that’s not fair to either of us.”  He’s rambling.  “And we’ll be fine, probably for a few years or whatever but eventually, it’ll come crumbling down because we didn’t take our time to line everything up in the best way.  Then I’ll be forty and newly single and I’ll never get married or worse, I’d be an old divorced graying gay man with kids who hate me.”

“Oh my God.  Hummel, I think you need to back up and tell me exactly what a ‘good couple of days’ means to you.  Because if this is how you feel after some scruffy-ass make-out session, then you are seriously derang-”

“I can’t!  He’s back.  Call you later, Tana!  Love you!”  He hits end on his phone and throws it into the cup holder, slamming his seat back into the upright position.  He watches Blaine approach, nearly skipping through the parking lot.  Kurt bangs at the lock controls to open the door, and allows Blaine to rip him right out of the car.  When he looks into Blaine’s glistening eyes, Blaine chokes on a sob that escapes and Kurt’s never seen him so… falsely happy, like he’s been through the worst hell there is.  He sees right through the walls.

Blaine connects his body fully to Kurt’s, hips crashing together first followed by the rest of their fronts, making them one as he devours Kurt’s face with his lips.  Kurt grants permission to the dominance Blaine so surely needs in this kiss, but breaks it when hands explore and squeeze a little too sexually, especially for a public parking lot near a Midwestern hospital.  There’s bound to be abortion protesters nearby that certainly have the same views about gay people. 

**xK &Bx**

“Hi.”  Kurt says, sounding weary and shaky and unsure if Blaine will ever want to talk about it.

“Hey, hubby.”  Blaine says as he dances around the back of the car to get to the other side, making it clear that he does not want to discuss it yet.  He opens the passenger side door and folds his forearms against the roof of the car, staring shamelessly at Kurt.  “Get in the car, pretty boy.  Take me home.”

They drive off in silence after what appears to be an internal fight between Kurt and his brain, Blaine tapping on the window glass to the rhythm of whatever song is on the radio.  Kurt keeps looking over at him; Blaine sees it through his periphery, like Kurt is checking in with him silently every five seconds.  

As the past hour floods back, the tension builds for Blaine until his ears are swimming and he’s seeing stars.  He’s dizzy and he tastes vomit in a sour burp.  Seconds before Kurt is about to merge onto the highway, Blaine can’t take it anymore.  He screams.  “Kurt, pull over!”

Kurt’s too late in his comprehension; Blaine projectile vomits all over the side of the door as he attempts to open it.  He stumbles out and into the grass on the side of the road, sitting with his knees bent up, launching anything he’s ever eaten over to the side of his body, a souvenir Ohio can keep.  “Fuck.”

Kurt’s at his side now, trying to ease him into a comfortable place in his mind, all with unspoken words of _love_ and _forever_ and _support_.  He’s simply rubbing circles into his back, suggesting the need for Blaine to take his time and breathe.  Blaine opens his mouth and closes it immediately; he wants to say so much.  

Blaine stares at Kurt wide-eyed and more scared than he’s ever been.  His heaving chest is erratic as he launches into a full-blown panic attack that can’t be composed.  He hugs at his knees and kisses his forehead to them; breathing so hard he can’t even feel life in each inhale as he hyperventilates.  Shaky exhales come few and far between and he can absently hear Kurt’s words, a tone so comforting it makes him dimly aware of exactly how alive Kurt is and exactly how dead he could have been.  Every issue he’s been dealing with within the past few days, weeks, years surfaces right here right now on the side of the highway ramp. 

“Kurt, I-I-I… oh, God.”   He’s never really had a dad, but knowing that he’s lost him anyway hurts all the same.  He gasps and gulps repeatedly for survival; he can’t seem to attract any air to his lungs regardless of what he tries and he’s more flustered than anything as he tries to calm his nerves with Kurt by his side.  

“Okay, B.  You’re okay.  Don’t speak until you’ve calmed down.  You’re okay, I’m right here, I’m so proud of you.”  Kurt winces as he pulls off his own Henley and crumples it up to wipe at Blaine’s mouth.  “I have a bottle of water in the car.  Do you need it?”

“Need you.”

“Okay, honey.  I’ve got you, I’m right here.”  Blaine feels it in his bones as Kurt rubs at Blaine’s shoulder and mimics the bent stance of his legs.  Blaine lowers his forehead again to attach to his knees and focuses on just breathing and the scent of Kurt and the fact that Kurt is shirtless literally inches away from him.  

It takes a solid ten minutes to force his head up to glance at Kurt, staring back at him with worry but finally no pity for once.

“Need that water yet?”

Blaine nods once, diligently watching as Kurt beams back at him and jumps to his feet to scramble through the backseat of the car.  A triumphant _ah-ha_ is celebrated and Kurt is welcomed back into the spot to Blaine’s left, the spot without the vomit.  He untwists the cap for Blaine and feeds it to his mouth like a baby’s bottle, like a baby goat at the petting zoo.  The angle is awkward and his neck hurts by being pushed up to dangle the water bottle, but he sucks on it anyway.  He can only allow this behavior because he’s too lazy to lift his hands and hold something as heavy as water.  

“Swish and spit.”

Blaine complies with a slight eye-roll and everything seems… okay.  He forces himself to take the bottle from Kurt and takes another large swig before cupping some in his hand and splashing it on his face.  He sighs and looks back to Kurt.  “Sorry.”

“Shh.  I’m really happy you survived him.”

“Mmmm, me too.  I’m happy you did too.”  

Of course, they both know exactly what he’s referring to.  It’s kind of hard to miss the topic of conversation, given where they are: on the side of the road minutes from where Christian Anderson is handcuffed to a hospital bed.  Kurt tries to get a real thought out of Blaine.  “So…” 

“Sew your pants, pretty boy.”  Blaine grins.  “I’m fine.”

Kurt smirks and rolls his eyes.  “Yeah?”

Blaine nods.  “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Distract me with something else for now.”

Kurt taps his finger to his chin as though he’s trying to figure out the next mathematical equation that works one hundred percent of the time.  It looks like he knows what he wants to say but he’s not sure if it’s something Blaine can handle right now.  He inhales and goes for it anyway, playing it out and keeping a careful eye on Blaine throughout the next sentence out of his mouth.  “Umm, so I’m pretty sure Oliver is cheating on me.”

“Whoa.”  Blaine rests his arms and head back on his knees, only looking to Kurt for a continuation.   “Want me to kick his ass?”

“No.  I like driving around wherever we want with you instead of being confined to four miles.”  He grins, showing Blaine it’s a joke, and continues.  “I didn’t care, really.  It’s just more reason to stay in Ohio after the holiday, until at least after Christmas and I think that’s what I really need.”

“Kurt.”  Blaine sighs.  “You’re running again.  You and I both know that hiding doesn’t solve shit.”

“I didn’t run after you and that would have solved a lot, I think.”

Blaine can only stare into the nothing in front of his eyes, a lump in his throat.  He feels like he won’t be able to say it the way it should come out, but continues anyway.  “I started telling Christian how everything is… the way it is with no help from him but I finally realized that it had _everything_ to do with him, didn’t it?”

“Well, probably not everything.”  Kurt smiles.  “I didn’t run after you and I let you go, and even if your reasoning behind moving away from me had to do with Christian, I probably could have stopped you if I tried hard enough.”

“It was all him.  He chased me away from New York, if that makes sense, not you.  Do you know that?”

“I do know that now, but it took me a really long time to realize that without your help.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kurt waves him off.  “I’m just happy we can forgive each other now.”

“Maybe I needed to mature by myself?”

“Mmmm, told you so!”  Kurt’s face lights up like a little boy.  He looks so young.  “When you were eighteen years old begging me to come with you to New York, I told you that!”

Blaine laughs and looks back at him.  “Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh come on!  When you finally decided you wanted to go to college at all, you know I told you that you needed to experience it without the old man bringing you down.  That was probably why you were so stressed toward the end, anyway.  I should have stood my ground.  I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want you, though.  I didn’t want you to know that you could go somewhere and I wouldn’t follow.  That happened anyway, didn’t it?  I’ve failed you.”

“I don’t know what to say.  I was a terrible boyfriend to you.”

“I’ve had a few more than you in my day, and you were the best of all of them.  You weren’t a terrible boyfriend.”

“I was, but I think I needed to fail to open my eyes a bit.”

“Maybe that’s true.  How did you leave it with Christian?”

“I think I saw a few tears, and I might have spit in his face.”

Kurt rests his head and shakes his shoulders quietly, signaling a laugh. “Okay.”

“Are you really good about Oliver?”

“It hurts, but only because he was supposed to be loyal to me.”

“Kurt.”  Blaine laughs.  “Babe, isn’t that a little hypocritical?” 

When Kurt just stares at him, Blaine only shakes his head and laughs without any sound.  

“I know it is, of course I know it is.  But if I’m not mistaken, I thought that he felt about me the way I feel about you and I can’t imagine doing that to someone who I care so deeply about.  I’m not making any sense.”

“No, I get it.”

Kurt smiles and flutters his eyelashes.  “Besides, hello?  Have you seen me?  No one should cheat on _this_.”

“I have seen you and I agree.  Anyone who willingly walks away from you is a fucking idiot who deserves to wallow for the rest of his life.”

“Don’t turn this into the pity show, Blaine.  Cheating is the end all, be all.  _Anything else_ is… fixable.”

“Moving across the country with no notice because I was too much of a coward to stand up to myself and this escalating idea of everyone hating me because of the family I was born into?”

“We’re fixing that now, aren’t we?”

Blaine grins and nods.  “You are the perfect distraction, pretty boy.  Can we go home now?”

Kurt jumps to his feet and pulls Blaine up by his wrists.  He takes him in to hug.  “I love you, honey.”

“Love you too.”

Kurt takes his shirt back and wipes the open door to rid it of humanly liquids.  “You’re paying for the car wash.”

Blaine laughs.  “Oh, okay.  Because buying the whole fucking car wasn’t enough.”

“Ah ha!  You admit it!”

“Shit.”  Blaine’s smiling and shaking his head, his heart slowly mending from the events today.  “Smart _and_ pretty.  I hit the jackpot.”  He takes another swish and spit of any remaining water.  “Honestly, I just wanted to make sure you would keep it.  I had a feeling you’d try to give it back to the dealership if you knew it came from me.”

Kurt steps back from the car and smiles at Blaine.  “Thanks for the Beemer, sugar daddy.”

As a response, Blaine slams Kurt’s back into the rear door of the car and corners him into his grasp.  He brings his lips to Kurt, slamming them into his face at the last second, releasing all of his emotion from the day into Kurt’s mouth.  He smiles into it and breaks away, shifting Kurt down the side of the car a bit so he can open his own door and climb in.  He leaves Kurt there to take a breath and revel in it for a minute.  Blaine waits patiently in the car, buckling up and adjusting the back of his seat until it’s at the perfect angle.  

Eventually, Kurt hops into his own seat and looks at Blaine, shaking his head fondly.  He opens the glove compartment and pops in a piece of gum, looking at Blaine to offer him one as well.

Blaine takes a piece and smiles around it.  “Sorry for the puke.”

Kurt gives him a pointed look.

“What?  I’m not allowed to kiss my gorgeous, shirtless ex-boyfriend slash best friend who is recently single?  I think we should go to Scandals tonight.  Celebrate.  Feel free not to replace the shirt.”

Kurt starts the car and looks in the mirror to gauge the traffic level coming around the curve.  “I never said I was breaking up with him, babe.”

Blaine sputters and turns his hips toward Kurt.  “I’m sorry, what?”  He peels his hoodie off and wordlessly hands it to Kurt, who unbuckles, puts it on, rebuckles, and merges onto the highway.

“He knows I know, but I’m staying with him for now.”  Kurt looks to Blaine, if only for a reaction. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am serious.  Willa told me all about it just now on the phone and I just... I can’t be single right now, but I know it happened.  Santana took video proof.”

“Who the fuck is Willa?”

“Oh!  The Julie of the New York Lima Bean.  She’s amazing and she’s dating Santana, I think.”

“Will I meet her?”

“Well, I hope so.  She’s one of my closest friends.  You’ll love her.”

“Kurt.”

“What?”

Blaine sighs and shakes his head.  He wants to meet all of Kurt’s new friends as his boyfriend, not as his ex.  “Why?”  He looks to Kurt and then out the window, seemingly shutting down again.  “He can cheat and basically do whatever he wants while you’re not around and keep you?  How does that make any sense?”

“I have a reason to dump him at any time I want, now.  He knows a lot about you, you know.  I think he might be getting suspicious.”

Blaine stares out the window.  “Of what exactly Kurt?  Remember?  We’re not together.  You’re resisting again?  You know, my _father_ … my piece of shit, disgusting father _would have_ been so satisfied if I told him the truth about us.”

Kurt sighs and continues driving, tapping his fingertips to the steering wheel in the beat matching the radio.  

“Blaine.”

“What?”  Blaine snaps and swallows.  He whispers, “Sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.  But I will tell you something you’re doing wrong right now.  You’re still searching for his damn approval.  You have to stop that if you really want to survive him.”  He pauses.  “I’m staying with Oliver for now for reasons that I can’t really explain right now.  Just trust me.”

“Kurt, please.”

“No!  You need to understand that any resistance I’m fighting you on is because I want to do this right so that it lasts and it has nothing to do with whether or not Christian fucking Anderson thinks it’s right or wrong.  Everyone else in both of our lives… _everyone else_ is a casualty in this grand love story of ours and nothing matters except you…” Kurt takes Blaine’s hand across the console, looking at him quickly and squeezes, “you and me.  Why is it that I’m still trying to get that through your thick head, six years later?”  He puts his hand back on the steering wheel.  “You don’t get to throw him in my face to guilt me into this thing.  Because he is the last thing on my mind when I look at you.  Right up there with Oliver and anyone else who has ever wronged either one of us.”  Kurt looks at Blaine again.  “I may not know all the details of your life since you left a few years ago, and you don’t know everything about me anymore, but Jesus Christ, Blaine.  It’s all I can do to make this right, and real, and ever-fucking-lasting, if it’s the last thing I try to do in my entire life.  Everyone else be damned.”

“That’s enough, Kurt.  I’m serious.”  Blaine is openly crying now, if only for the perfect speech Kurt’s had locked up deep down inside of him, reserved for only Blaine.  

“Fine, just remember that I’m fighting for you and I’m on your side and you and I make it in the end.  I’m not resisting to be mean, or even to come off as a challenge.  I’m resisting this time to right our wrongs and set the stone for the rest of our lives together.”

The rest of the way back to Lima is nearly silent, with Blaine angry with himself for not capturing any closure at all in the realm of his father and angry with Kurt for letting another man walk all over him but refusing to allow Blaine to fix his own mistakes and angry still at himself for being so obviously affected by Kurt’s words.  It’s not fair that Oliver can have all of Kurt right now even though he’s undeniably Blaine’s.  He wants to wrap him up and hold him close until Oliver disappears forever.

As Kurt pulls in behind his dad’s car at the house, Blaine wipes his silent tears and smiles at Kurt.  

“I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up.  And that I snap at you constantly.”

Kurt smiles at Blaine and shrugs.  “We’re all a little fucked up.  That’s why we worked so well, yeah?  And it’s why we’ll work again.  I promise.”

“I’m like one of those little wind-up toys in those fucking kid’s meals, pretty.  That’s what you do to me.”

Kurt shrugs and smiles again and exits the car, leading the way up toward the house.  He waits for Blaine on the porch.  “You’re okay?”

“Yeah.”  Blaine runs up the stairs and allows his fingers to brush Kurt’s back as he tramples into the house.  “We’re back!”  

There’s a bang and a shatter coming from the kitchen, so Kurt goes to inspect as Blaine goes to brush his teeth quickly and quietly.

When he returns downstairs, the kitchen looks like something blew up and no one took cover.  There’s flour smeared across a cutting board and a dough roller haphazardly thrown about across the island, and Burt is hovering over the crock pot, stirring whatever’s been left in there for hours, ignoring a shattered plate at his feet.

Blaine enters the room and blinks at Burt aimlessly stirring like it’s the answer to time travel.  He looks at Kurt who stands off to the side, stunned with a hand over his mouth and eyes wide. 

“Uhh, Burt?”  Blaine blinks. 

Burt turns around quickly, startled.  “Hey!  I tried to make some Hummel favorites for you two but nothing’s ready yet.  Just a little while longer.”

“This is chaos, Dad.  What the hell are you doing?”  Kurt moves to try to clean up the island but gives up when he gets there.

“Be nice.”  Burt replies with a shrug.  “How’d it go?”  He stares directly at Blaine.

“Fine.”  Blaine doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes and nods, getting a can of Coke and sitting at the table to crack it open.  He looks up at them, giving pointed looks to each other, and huffs.  “It was fine, as fine as I expected.  Seriously.”

Kurt comes up behind him and Blaine feels light pressure on both of his shoulders as Kurt places his hands, probably just to touch.  Against all of his instincts telling him that he should not allow Kurt to touch, he sighs and sits there for several minutes watching Burt stir whatever it is in the crock pot.  Kurt starts to rub at Blaine’s shoulders, not quite a massage but something that could have the potential to calm Blaine if he let it.

Blaine simply stills Kurt’s hands with his own and squeezes.  He pushes the chair out to signify he wants to get up and when Kurt takes his hands back to himself and steps backward once, Blaine’s able to stand.  “I’m going to go… lie down for a while.  Long day.  Don’t let me nap for more than an hour or two?  Maybe we can go to Breadstix after?”  He looks to Kurt to wake him up at a reasonable hour.

Kurt nods.  Blaine disappears.

Crashing into Finn’s old bed, he wonders what people always want from him.  He’s always expected to hold it together, to not sob like a child, and only because the shit he’s been through is something he should be used to by now.  He’s not allowed to be shown as weak or lonely; he can only always keep it together.  He should be able to suck it up, brush it off, and carry on.  He’s been so affected about Kurt allowing him back into his life, as now the drama with his father, the fact that his mother is still a homophobic bitch, and having to resort to his ex-boyfriend’s family to be his own.  The revelation hits then:  the only person putting pressure on himself to keep it all together is him.

He loves Burt and Carole as much as he loves Kurt, but in an entirely different form.  They are both greater parents than he’d ever hope to have, and they love him regardless of the issues their actual son had with him in the past.  That’s really big of both of them, and he’s forever grateful for the simple decision on their part to stay neutral.

But they are not his family by definition.  He wishes that his biological parents would be as amazing as Burt and Carole have been over the course of these last few years.  He can wish until he’s blue in the face – it’s never going to happen.

He startles at the light triple-knock at the door and figures it’s Kurt so he grumbles a noise that is not a word, indicating that the door is open and he can come in.  His eyes slide to the moving door and then to Carole who smiles warmly and sits on the edge of the bed.  

“Hi, honey.”

“I was just thinking about you.”  Blaine shifts and sits up so he’s comfortable, at least physically.  “About how you guys have been amazing to me, even if I’m not with Kurt anymore, and how I wish I could have this with my real parents.  When did you get home?”

“Kurt asked me home early because we’re going out to eat.  Blaine, your parents are a special breed.  We’re all really proud of you for going to see him anyway.”

“I think this is why I met Kurt… for the sake of family.  It means a lot that you didn’t just push me away when we broke up.”

Carole captures Blaine’s shoulders in a tight hug then pulls away to see his face.  “You don’t know how much joy it gives me to hear you say we’re your family.  How did it go with your dad?”

“I said some pretty hurtful things I couldn’t really control.  That part was normal, everything I was sort of expecting from myself, you know?  Standing in front of him, I finally realized how _okay_ I am getting to be without him.  Without them both.”

“You are, and I’m so proud of you.”  Carole sighs and shifts her head into a tilt.  “You’re perfectly okay without him.”

“Not really though.  He’s the one who set my life the way I’ve lived it so far, and the reason why I left Columbia, and ultimately the reason why I moved away and lost Kurt.”

“Think further back, though honey.  He’s the reason why you lived in Ohio at all, so he’s the reason why you went to the Lima Bean that day, isn’t he?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“He gave you life in the first place.  I’m in no way defending him, okay? Because I think he is the most vile man in the world and you will always have a home here because you are our family, Blaine.  Try to think of the good.  You can’t find the closure you’re searching for until you think back on the good.”

“He cried.”

“Good.  Monsters like him usually don’t.  I’m happy you got him there.”

Blaine laughs through his tears.  “I guess so.”  He shakes his head.  “Told him he deserved to die and that me and Kurt were fine despite all his efforts and-” He cuts himself off because Kurt comes in and wordlessly crushes his bones into a hug fit for a king. 

Blaine whispers the rest of his intended sentence directly into Kurt’s ear, hooking his chin to his shoulder and squeezing closer and tighter against Kurt’s chest.  “That we’ll never stop loving each other, even though that was his plan.”

“You are never leaving me ever again, Blaine Anderson.  So you can forget about all your escape routes right now.  If I have to hire a babysitter, I will.”

“Lock me up and throw away the key, pretty.  I’m yours.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Songs used in this chapter:  Banks – Waiting Game**

_December_

Blaine unlocks the door to his empty apartment and pulls his duffle bag into the living room from the hallway.  He’s exhausted from traveling, so tired from the trip alone.  It feels unsafe and draining to be back here in San Francisco without Kurt, although he’s never even been here.  Blaine promises himself to catch up on sleep as soon as he checks in with everyone from Ohio, really just Kurt if he’s being honest.  

It was such a trying trip altogether for Blaine and he wishes he could just be lazy for a few days but he needs to jump right back into his schoolwork.  He’s still overly affected by the interaction he’s had with his father, and Kurt’s overall acceptance toward whatever is going on in their situation.  It’s all taking up so much space in his head and he needs to let it go.  He pulls out the planner he uses for schoolwork and flips to the week ahead.  He had pre-planned his trip back to Ohio, so he thankfully has nothing due that he hasn’t done already, but he works to organize his bag so his papers are easily accessible for each class.  If Blaine has no routine, Blaine is nothing.

He comes back to the living room for his duffle bag and hauls it back upstairs.  He sets it in the corner, deeming unpacking a chore for later, and plops down on his bed.  He retrieves his phone from his jeans pocket and finds Kurt’s contact.  He lets it ring while he situates his pillows into a comfortable pile and climbs in.  

“No, shut up!  It’s Blaine.  Hi.”

“Hi baby.”  Blaine grins to himself.  “What was that all about?”

“My father making fun of me because I apparently have all the boys calling every phone line, stalking the shit out of me.  He started singing that Kelis song.”  Kurt sighs dramatically into the phone, probably as a show for his parents.  He sings.  “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard…”

Blaine laughs.  “Oh, God.  Well, your milkshake _is_ impeccable.  Oliver?”

“Oliver.”  Kurt groans.  “How was your flight?  I’m assuming you’re home safe?”

“Fine.  I’m home and in my bed. My brain won’t turn off.  It was really good to see you and hang out with you for so long, but you’re right.  Everything is always so intense in Ohio.”  

Kurt sighs into the phone.  “I know.  I meant what I said, though.  Just give me time to figure it all out.  Are you still thinking about Christian?”

“No?  I mean, sure.  Yes.  It’s just all really… we’re not going to get rid of him anytime soon and I guess it just makes me irrationally nervous that you’re still there and so close to him.”

“He’s not gonna get me, Blaine.”

“I know that.  I know.  It’s just something changed when I was home with you and now our relationship is kind of exactly how it used to be without the sex.  Am I making any sense?”

“I feel it, too.  Between your dad and Oliver and New York and the ummm, note you found.  A lot of feelings shifted and it doesn’t feel right for you to be all the way in California by yourself.”

“Exactly.  Kurt, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.  Sometimes, it’s all I know.  You’re all I know, Blaine, even when we were crazy and not talking.  Can I convince you to come home for Christmas?”

Blaine’s hand finds its way to his boxers, to the inside of his waistband, and finally to wrap around his cock. 

“I have a better question to ask you right now.”  He licks his lips and starts to stroke in a familiar rhythm.

Kurt laughs.  “What?”

“What are you wearing?”

“Scandalous.  Blaine, stop.”

“Please, baby.”  Blaine’s breath hitches as he starts to rub.

“Oh my God!”  His voice is louder and more high-pitched than he probably would have liked so he brings it down to a whisper.  “Oh my God, Blaine are you…”

“Yeah.  Whatever, you’re so hot.”

“Uh huh, and what else?”  

Blaine can hear a ruffle on the other end, like Kurt got up and sprinted upstairs.  

“I’m jerking myself off pretending it’s your hand, and I’m getting closer by the second because you don’t even know how sexy you are when you’re all concentrated on getting me off… Kurt, please?  Where are you?”

“My room, now.  I had to escape… Wouldn’t you rather I be there with you?”

“Mmm, more than anything, pretty boy.  This is all we have right now, though.  It’ll be fine.  Come on, baby.  Will you come for me?”

“Blaine…” Kurt breathes, as if he’s about to resist again.  

If Kurt takes Blaine all the way with this, it would mean that they are yet another step closer to a reconciled relationship and he’s still not entirely sure that’s what they need.  Blaine is testing the waters.  “Kurt. God, fuck me.”

“Oh, my God.  Shit.  Blaine, you’re making me-” Kurt’s breath hitches; he’s clearly wrapping his own hand around his cock and pulling at the angle Blaine knows he loves.

Blaine breathes and takes himself through, right up until the edge.  “Kurt… want you inside me so bad.  Go harder.”

“Oh my God, shit. Come with me, B.”

Everything stops and stiffens; it feels like they’ve melted into puddles together, as if they’re right next to each other or one on top of the other.

They breathe into the phones simultaneously and patiently await regular heartbeats, one in the same.  When they finally calm down, Blaine clears his throat.  “Kurt?”

“Does this change anything?”  Kurt almost sounds like a little boy, his voice as eager as a toddler.

“Mmmm, do you want it to?”

“Not yet.  Except that it breaks another wall and we’re one step closer.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe soon.”

“Soon.”

“Sooner than you think.  Love you, B.  I have to go clean up and I’m suddenly really sleepy.  I miss having you here, honey.”

“Okay.  Call me whenever.  Love you.”

“Love you.”

**xK &Bx**

The next three weeks escape from Blaine completely.  It’s all a blur as he rushes back and forth to class, studies for final exams, and writes an endless amount of pages for all sorts of assignments he has at school, all to the tune of his phone never shining brightly with Kurt’s grinning face.  

Blaine misses hearing Kurt’s voice on a regular basis and the fact that he can’t do much about it right now kills him.  Kurt hardly answers any texts or phone calls anymore, chalking it up to being terribly busy in Lima.  Blaine can’t help but smell just a little bit of bullshit, especially after the phone sex they had the night Blaine returned to California.

He forces himself to stop thinking about it under the pretense of homework.  He writes thousands of grueling words in an effort to escape his world for a while and write about someone else’s.

He goes out with Steve and Jimmy only a few times during finals and finds that it’s simply not as fun as it used to be.  Every time he sees someone or something ridiculously stereotypical or hilarious to the world he lives in, he looks around for Kurt and finally realizes he can’t replace him.  He leaves early every time, cold and alone, sure that his friends have started to realize something is up.  Blaine assumes they’ll put two and two together eventually and realize that it’s all because of the time he spent in Lima with Kurt.

Jimmy tried to bring Kurt up once or twice after Blaine’s grand confession of having had a serious live-in boyfriend in his past.  Blaine continued to keep it a generic conversation.  He’s pretty sure that opening up to anyone is just an invitation to criticize every mistake he’s ever made.

He speaks to Santana almost daily, regardless of how short the conversation, and she informs him every single time that Oliver and Kurt have yet to speak and Kurt continues to send excuses for staying in Ohio longer.  Santana and Willa are holding down the fort at the Lima Bean in New York, and Santana is perfectly fine with it.  Evidently, Kurt will be back in New York on the Tuesday before Christmas to check in with the coffee shop and pay rent.  He’s conveniently planned it this way so they can all drive back road-trip style the next day because they waited too long to buy flights and the pricing is ridiculous.  She’s not sure if Oliver will show up for Christmas in Ohio, but she really wants Blaine to go so she can introduce him to Willa, who is apparently Santana’s first girlfriend she’s ever cared anything for, at least since high school.  It’s serious and she really wants Blaine’s approval as her very best friend besides Kurt.   It’s important to her; she says he has to be there.

“Santana, if Kurt’s boyfriend is going to be there, I can’t just show up.  Why don’t you and Willa come out here for New Years?”

“I will not fly an additional four hours because you’re scared you’re going to punch Olive Oil in the face just because he’s with Kurt and you’re not.”

“Santana, that’s not why.  California is warm.  We can go to the beach, visit Cooper?”

“You forget how well I know your skanky ass.  You and Kurt are friends and his parents are as close to your own than anyone else’s.  He may not ever admit this to you, but he talks about you all the time when we have our nightly lady chats and I can tell how much he misses you.  You should be able to see your family for the holidays.”

“You talk daily?”  
  
“Of course we do.”

“I’ve hardly been able to get in touch with him ever since-”

“The phone sex?”

“Fuck, Santana!  How the fuck?”

“Shut up.  Of course I know.”

Blaine sighs.  “I hate you.  I don’t want to start shit if I show up and he’s there too.  That’s just asking for trouble, don’t you think?”

“B, trust me.  If Oliver shows, it’s him starting shit.  Not you.”

“Oh my God, fine!  When are you getting there?”

“If you would listen to me, you’d already know the answer to that question.” 

“Remind me again, Striptease, or else I don’t buy my fucking flight.”

“Wednesday!  The 23rd.”

“I’ll get the latest flight that day.  Convince Kurt to take a detour through Columbus and pick me up?”

Santana claps and screams a high-pitched _woo_ in his ear.  

Blaine rolls his eyes and grins.  “Love you, Santana.”

“Love you!  Go book the flight and email me!”

Instead of calling Kurt for the tenth time in two weeks, Blaine books the flight into Columbus and calls Burt to let him know.  He is, of course, excited to have everyone back home for the holiday again and demands an email forward with all of the information so he can track the flight.  Blaine promises that much before hanging up the phone quickly, if only to prevent asking Kurt’s dad if Kurt plans on bringing a plus one to the Christmas festivities.

_From:_ [ _BAnders@UCBerkeley.com_ ](mailto:BAnders@UCBerkeley.com)   
_To:_ [ _HummelK@gmail.com_ ](mailto:HummelK@gmail.com) _;_ [ _StripteaseLopez@gmail.com_ ](mailto:StripteaseLopez@gmail.com) _;_ [ _CHud@limamemorial.com_ ](mailto:CHud@limamemorial.com) _; Burt@HummelTires.com_   
_Subject:  Christmas!_

_Hola familigia,_

_Booked my flight to Ohio for Christmas.  Details so you can stalk me are attached.  Pretty sure I have a ride already, right San?_

_(Kurt, stop running away and call me.  Calling you out in front of everyone so you actually do pick up the damn phone before I consider myself a stalker.  And to think we were doing so well.)_

_In other, more exciting news:  Three more exams until I’m done with the semester that kicked my ass.  I’m almost a second-semester senior!  Oh, FYI:  Graduation is May 18th.  You’re all invited.  I’ll provide the flights.  We’ll talk details at Christmas.  See you soon!_

_Hoe Hoe Hoe,_   
_B_

**xK &Bx**

Kurt opens his laptop when he finally gets situated at the Carrie Table.  The (original) Lima Bean is like home, and all the memories from the past several years come flooding back.  He sits there, smiling to himself as his computer boots up, reminiscing about all that’s happened between these four walls.  It’s so nice to see Julie and catch up with her without her asking questions that she would have to ask a boss.  She is the boss and takes complete ownership of the coffee shop.  She, in turn, is very happy to see him so regularly lately and that makes Kurt feel good too.  

He navigates to his Google account and starts going through the slew of emails he has for both coffee shops.  There is one from Blaine; he clicks to open that one first.  Of course.

He reads the email as he sips his coffee and rolls his eyes fondly when he reads “hoe, hoe, hoe.”

It’s really great that Blaine has decided to come for Christmas, and it’ll be nice to have him there with Santana and Willa as well.  Instead of typing out something snarky for everyone to read, he decides that he needs to call Blaine right this instant; he does miss his voice and although he has been trying to avoid him as much as possible after the phone sex, it’s gone too far.  It doesn’t even ring a full ring before Blaine answers with his own flavor of attitude.

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number.  I don’t remember a _Kurt Hummel_.  Name doesn’t ring a bell, since it’s been like three weeks of me trying to call him and there’s been no fucking answer.”

Kurt laughs and shakes his head to himself.  “I’m sorry I haven’t called back, I’m not running from you I swear.  I just needed-”

“Uh huh…” Blaine’s laughing; he’s in a good mood and for that, Kurt is grateful.  “Whatever you say, pretty one.”

“Seriously!  I’m actually sort of busy in Lima.  Ignoring Oliver is a full-time job, B.”

“Running away from the issues you have to deal with eventually, Kurt.”

He pointedly ignores Blaine’s comeback.  He knows he’s right; of course he’s right.  “Also, Christmas shopping and helping Julie out at the Bean.”

“Awww, how is she?  I miss her.”

“Adorable, as always.  She has a serious boyfriend that she loves, evidently.”

“Oh!  Good.  You should give her off a few days when we’re there and it’ll be like old times.  We can make lattes and not pay for them, and we can clean out the bakery cabinet, and restock cups, and oh!  We can fuck over the counter.”

Kurt barks out a loud laugh.  “Blaine!”

“What?  It’s just a list of things we’ve done before that I wouldn’t mind doing again.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“What?”  Blaine laughs.  “Kurt, oh my God.”

“Not that, idiot.  Unless you want to?”

“Oh my God.  This isn’t real.”

Kurt barks out another cackle of a laugh.  “Shut up, I’m teasing you.  I mean that yes, we should give her a few days off.  Everyone who’s coming home for Christmas knows how to operate a Lima Bean.  It’s really not that hard and she hasn’t had a vacation in a few years.”

“That sounds… nostalgic.  I’ll see you on the 23rd, yeah?  If you’re sure this is all okay.”

“Of course it’s okay, B.  Who else would I want to spend Christmas and my birthday with?”

“I don’t know.  Possibly your boyfriend, for starters?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up already.  I haven’t really talked to him much, especially about Christmas.  Speaking of… would it be terribly uncomfortable for you if he came along?  He’s been hinting at it and I’ve been ignoring the emails.”

“I don’t know.”  Blaine says, and it puts a pang in Kurt’s heart.  He couldn’t imagine how horrible he’d feel if the tables were turned.  “Look, Kurt.  You need to do what you need to do.  I’m here waiting for you until you can figure it all out.  You know that.  Invite him or not, I’ll still be there.”

“It doesn’t mean that I have any right to make you uncomfortable in the meantime.”

“I’ll be fine.  Santana told me you’re driving in that day, so I get in as late as possible.   You guys can maybe pick me up?”

“Yeah, I saw your flight information.  That’s perfect.  I can’t wait to see you, B.”

“Me either, you have no idea.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Kurt.  So much.  Go call your boyfriend and smooth things over.”

“You’re telling me this because?”

“Just go.  Love you baby.  Bye.”  

Kurt can almost feel the shatter of the phone being slammed down or thrown across the wall.  He knows Oliver in general is affecting Blaine; he trusts that Blaine will hang out just a little bit longer.

**xK &Bx**

It’s freezing in San Francisco, but it will definitely be colder in Ohio, so Blaine thinks twice and digs out his winter coat from the back of his closet, taking a last look around his apartment before locking up and throwing his suitcase into the car.  He sighs and revs the engine a bit, letting his black Range Rover warm up.  He pulls out into traffic, descending and ascending through the city toward the freeway to take him to the airport.  He loves the feeling he gets as he switches lanes and speeds down the 101; he’s going _home_ for Christmas.

He can’t help but let his mind drift from actually kind of loving California to what the next steps with Kurt might be this week.  The last time he was home with Kurt, their relationship shifted in ways he can’t really explain, and again recently when they took it a step further and engaged in mutual masturbation over the phone _and_ in two different time zones, at that.  Things are progressing slowly now and Kurt isn’t resisting as much, even if he blatantly ignored Blaine for three excruciating weeks.  This is why he’s thoroughly _surprised, irritated, frustrated_ with the update straight from Santana when he’s ten minutes from the airport saying that plans have changed with Oliver and he is officially a guest at Burt and Carole’s for the holiday.  She also mentions, off-handedly, that there’s room at her mother’s house if he needs an escape once they all get to Lima.

Blaine can’t help but be put off by this news; he hopes he can control himself in Lima and not send anyone to the hospital.  He switches to the perfect song on his radio in an attempt to forget about it for a while and weaves through the traffic some more.  He’s that much closer to the airport; he’s that much closer to the love of his life.

_Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart,_   
_Cause lately, I’ve been scared of even thinking about where we are._

The lyrics vibrate out of the speakers.  Blaine lets himself fall deep into a train of thought.  He wants, so badly, to meet Kurt at the Columbus Airport as his boyfriend.  He wants to shamelessly kiss him and dip him and tell him how much he had missed him; the only waiting game that should be is the long distance relationship they both have to endure until Blaine’s graduation. He has already waited for Kurt to get his head out of his ass once before.  He can’t do this for much longer.

But there’s really nothing else he can do but wait if he wants another chance to be with Kurt for all eternity.  He decides that he’ll hang out with Kurt, Santana, Willa, and Julie and make the best out of the situation at hand.  They’ll all enjoy their breaks together as friends and everything will be great.  Whatever happens when Blaine and Kurt go back to Burt’s house will happen, even if Oliver is right there watching Blaine’s every move.

As nervous and anxious as he is, Blaine is that much more _excited_ to see Kurt.  Kurt’s still his best friend who he has missed immensely and it’s only been a few weeks.  He bounces through security, waits impatiently in the terminal, and finally boards the plane to fly high thirty thousand feet in the air: up, up, and away to Ohio.  
    
**xK &Bx**

“So, this Blaine is your ex-live-in-boyfriend who meant the world to you until he moved across the country and you refused to go with him, but you two are still best friends and he’ll always be a part of your life?”  Willa asks incredulously from the back seat as she rubs her knuckles up and down Santana’s cheek. She stares out the window, an overwhelming smirk on her face.  Kurt knows what they’re doing to him; the one and only Santana Lopez has written the script when it comes to the conversation about Blaine Anderson.

“So much more complicated than that, but yes.  Basically.”

“Is it complicated anymore?”  Oliver asks.

Kurt looks over at Oliver, dangerously suspicious that his last minute change of plans has something to do with the fact that Blaine is joining them.  For an eight-hour drive into the Midwest, Oliver has sure put in his fair share of effort in his clothes and hairstyle choice.  

“He’s my best friend, Oli.  Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, you know.”

“All three of us are BFF.”  Santana says with a smirk.  “We’re almost there.  Is that why we’re talking about Twinkle Toes?”

“We are about ten minutes out and Blaine landed a half hour ago.”  Kurt makes eye contact with Santana in the rear-view mirror, a breathless grin shining off his cheeks.  He knows she’ll be able to read it.

“Yes!  I can’t wait to see him.  It’s been so long… since you punched him in the face, Oliver.”  Santana grins right back.  If anything, this should be an entertaining week with everyone back in Ohio.

Kurt laughs openly at Santana and drives on.  If he’s being honest with himself, he’s rationally nervous for Oliver and Blaine to spend time together for the holiday, because he knows what happens when Blaine gets jealous and, apparently, Oliver has the same type of jealous side to him if the punches thrown in New York and the constant questions are any indication.  On the other hand, though, he’s ready to see a show, sort of loves when boys fight over him – _hypothetically_ – and is truly interested to see it play out.  He already knows who wins, but it’s still fun to watch the battle as long as no one gets hurt. 

He calls Blaine when he enters the circle of the airport, and puts the phone on speaker so he doesn’t get a ticket from the cops that seem to be everywhere.  He realizes how stupid of an idea this could be; it’ll only take one callus statement from Blaine.

“Pretttyyyy boyyyy.  Where the fuck are you?  Jesus, Ohio is boring.  I’m bored.”

“Not so boring now that the almighty Blaine Anderson has arrived.”  Kurt smirks at Santana through the mirror.  “Terminal B, right?”

“Yeah, hurry!  Is the beau with you?  If you say yes, I’m barfing.”

Kurt laughs.  “We’ll see you in a minute, B.”

“Love you!”

Kurt giggles again and throws his phone down into the cup holder, and laughs so hard it hurts his belly when Blaine is spotted jumping up and down on the side of the curb waiting for them with his adorable puffy jacket and faux-fur hood pulled over his head and fastened as tightly as possible.  He’s hugging himself and bouncing and he looks like a fucking puppy.  Kurt’s heart skips a beat.

Kurt slams the gear into park and jumps out of the car, crashing his body into Blaine’s right smack in front of Oliver’s scowling face.

“Blaine!  Why wouldn’t you just wait inside?”

“Preparing for the slow and painful torture I’ve set myself up for this weekend.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles.  “Missed you, but you have yet to shave.  We’ve talked about this!”  Kurt takes a step back to examine the goods, then grins and hugs him again.

“Yeah, I wanted to look my worst and still look better than Oliver.”

Kurt laughs.  “I was over him six hours ago.  We’ll talk more later.  Come on, we even made sure to leave room in the trunk for your suitcase.”  Kurt takes his hand and leads him to the back of the rental car big enough to fit everyone and opens up.  

Kurt launches the bag up into the empty space between the other suitcases and steps back to examine his handiwork with his hands on his hips.  Blaine laces his arms through Kurt’s elbows and attaches his own fingers at Kurt’s belly button.  The kisses on Kurt’s temple and nibbles at his ear prove just how much Blaine’s missed him.

“Kurt.”

“Mmm.”  Kurt leans back into Blaine’s body and closes his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the teasing and not caring who may be watching, boyfriend included.

“Missed you.”  Blaine breaks the hug and smiles at Kurt.  Kurt watches as the only boy he’s ever loved circles around to the back seat of the car and proceeds to tackle Santana.  “My Striptease!  How are you, my little hooker?”

Kurt slams the trunk shut and hops back up into the car, observing as Blaine climbs over Santana and into the seat between her and Willa.  Kurt laughs as Blaine blows a raspberry on Santana’s cheek, causing a slew of Spanish curse words.

“Twinkle Toes, this is Willa.  My girlfriend.”  Santana smiles.

“Woah-ho-ho!  Damn, Santana.  You do not deserve a hot piece of ass such as Miss Willa.  Shit!”  Blaine smiles at Willa.  “Must not objectify, must not objectify.”  He nudges Willa’s shoulder.  “Really nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of awesome things.”

“Same here.  I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine.  Keep telling me how pretty I am.”  Willa grins and blushes.  Blaine seems to have that effect on everyone.  Well, almost everyone.

“Gorgeous.  Santana doesn’t deserve any part of you.  Which leads me to my next topic of confused conversation!”  Blaine blinks at the back of Oliver’s head, curling his lip like something smells of dying flesh.

“And you remember Oliver, B?”  Kurt chimes in.  It’s polite.  Really, he’s just trying to shut him up.

“Oh!  Shit, I didn’t even notice you were there, Oli Oli Oxen Free!”  He looks at Santana, seemingly aware of Kurt’s eyes on him in the rear view mirror.  “How’s it going, man?”  Blaine scoots up to stick his head between Oliver and Kurt.  He nods when Oliver doesn’t respond.  “Okay then.  Kurt, I gotta say… he’s a keeper.  His jealous silence must be better than hearing all the annoying conversation I used to have with you just to hear myself talk, huh?”

Kurt laughs.  “Stop.” 

“Stopping.”  He leans back in his seat and puts a foot up on the back of the middle console of the front seat and stares holes into Kurt’s mirror until he catches his eye, positive that Kurt will blush a deep crimson.

Santana laughs because it’s clearly the best car ride of her entire life, which causes Willa to join in and soon, everyone’s huddled over and holding their stomachs from a painful happiness.  Except Oliver.  Kurt notices that it’s always _except Oliver_.

“I am so happy we’re all back together in Lame-o, Ohio, pretty.  This is going to be the perfect Christmas.”

“Almost, B.  Almost.”  They share a moment where no one else in the world is focused, where they are the only figures moving in a universe of blur.  Kurt prays to anyone up above that Blaine understands the message without him spelling it out in laymen’s terms.  _The only thing that would make this better is if we were here and together._

**xK &Bx**

The remainder of the drive back to Lima is somewhat uneventful, although Blaine maintains his over-the-top, happy mood for everyone to see.  He talks about how he’s almost done with school, how he can’t wait for Carole’s Christmas cookies, and how he’s excited to visit the tire shop with Burt.  Kurt and Blaine feed off of each other as Blaine tells a hilarious story about that time in New York when they were walking in the park and a squirrel attacked Blaine for his biscotti.  Before they know it, they’re dropping Santana and Willa off at Santana’s mom’s house with promises to meet up at the Bean tomorrow before Christmas Eve dinner.

Blaine sprawls out in the back seat.  He sneaks to rub at Kurt’s arm closest to the window between the side of the seat and the driver’s side door, only so Oliver can’t see. When Kurt shivers, Blaine stops and stares out the window.  “Ah, home sweet home.”

“Well, not really _your_ home though?”  Oliver’s been mostly listening the entire ride from the airport, probably trying to determine just how bad Blaine wants Kurt.

“No, very much my home.  This house, the people, the town?  It’s totally where I’m from.  It’s where I grew up, where I met the people who are my family.  It’s home.  As much as I claim to hate it sometimes, I owe this place everything.”  He gets out of the car the first second it’s physically possible, leaving Kurt and Oliver in his dust at the end of the driveway.  He runs up to the porch and straight through the door without knocking.

Kurt doesn’t realize he’s smiling fondly at the space that used to be Blaine until Oliver turns to him and clears his throat.  

“I want to have a threesome with Blaine.”

Kurt snaps his head to Oliver.  _What the fuck?_   “What?  No.”

“Why not?  There’s no doubt you’re still attracted to him.  Hell, I am too and I want to see what makes him the almighty Blaine.”

“He’s not almighty.  He’s just Blaine.  You’re not having sex with him.”

“But you are.”

“What?”  Kurt blushes.  “No.  No one is having sex with Blaine.  I haven’t had sex with Blaine in nearly three years.  There’s no reason to have sex with him anymore.”  _Lies_.

“Come on, Kurt.  We’re so… I can tell you want him badly, and he’s a very attractive person, although he’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I want to see your connection with him first hand.”  There’s a beat.  “I wish you looked at me the way you look at him.”

Kurt stares at him, taking it all in.  “It’s not a good idea, Oliver.  I’m not talking about this anymore.  Now come meet my parents like you wanted to so badly, or you could just go home if you prefer.”  Kurt opens and slams the door virtually in Oliver’s face.  He follows Kurt, directly behind him as they walk into the house.  He seems to be taking it all in, like he’s memorizing as many details as he can.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt comes back to Oliver with both of his parents in tow and Blaine behind them with a Coke as if he’s ready to watch a sporting event.  They’re introduced to each other and it’s actually not as painfully awkward as Blaine might have hoped. They shake hands and smile as any polite pair of parents would before they all head into the kitchen to catch up and get to know Oliver.

Blaine is quick to take the seat next to Kurt, undoubtedly so there is no room for Oliver, who’s forced to lurk in the corner like he doesn’t belong.  He doesn’t belong at all.

“Carole, I missed you.”  Blaine scoots his chair over to her so he can hug her again.  “I’m gonna put my bag in Finn’s room if that’s okay?  Santana said I could go to her house if there’s not enough room here with the newest addition of Kurt’s new boytoy.”  

Carole looks at him pointedly, as any mother would after teasing any member of the family.  “There’s always room for you here, honey.”

“There’s a third guest room past your room, Blaine, for Oliver.”  Burt nods as he talks.

Blaine tilts his head toward Kurt and raises an eyebrow.  “Guess I’ve never been in there.”  Kurt is blushing and looking down at the table and avoiding eye contact from Oliver.  His parents are making them sleep separate as thirty-something years old, and Blaine just smirks because that was _never_ the case in this household for him, dating or not. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mister and Missus Hummel.  I think I’m going to head up to bed now, it’s been a long day and it’s late.”

“Goodnight then, Oliver.”  Carole says sweetly.  “Kurt will show you where to find the bedroom.” 

“Oh!  Yeah.  Come on.”  Kurt is snapped out of his trance and gets up to lead his boyfriend upstairs.  He shoots a look of warning to Blaine and Burt, a laugh being their only plausible response.  

As soon as they are out of sight, Blaine groans.  “God!  What a douche!”

Burt laughs; Carole shakes her head.

“Seriously!  What a piece of scum.  He’s a damn cheating bastard and Kurt is still with him!  I don’t understand.”

Burt’s ears flare red; Blaine can actually see the difference in color.  “Well that’s news.  Care to elaborate?”

Carole hangs her head.

“I don’t know.  I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”  Blaine swallows.  “He’d kill me.  The point is… I don’t like the guy and I promise it’s not just because I’m jealous that Kurt’s not mine.”

Burt doubles over with laugher.  “Kid, honestly.”

“He’s squirmy and I don’t have a good feeling about him.  Like he’s here for a reason and that reason is not Kurt.”

Burt gets up and paces.  “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Honey, try not to get too involved.  I know you only want the best for him, but he needs to figure all of this out on his own, too.”  Carole is a saint, Blaine is entirely sure of it.

“He’s not dangerous, he’s just… ugh.  I know.  It’s just hard watching him be all guarded and distant, and he doesn’t even know that’s how he is around this guy.  He’s more affected by him than he knows.”

“I give you permission to kick his ass.  No son of mine is going to be cheated on.”

“Sorry I told you.  I really wasn’t supposed to.”

“I’m glad you did.  Now I don’t have to try too hard to like him.”

“I assure you he won’t last long.”  Blaine says, matter-of-factly.  “We sort of had a conversation before about how we’re inevitable, but he needs to work out the details with Oliver.  Once again, I’m waiting in the corner until he’s ready.”

“Oh yeah?  About time.”  Burt shrugs.  “It’ll happen.”

“Blaine, if there’s anything I know about Kurt, it’s that if he tells you he wants something to happen, he’s going to make sure it happens.”  Carole rubs his arm assuredly.  “But don’t let him take advantage of you because he knows you’re a sure thing.  Let him know just how much you love him.  Sometimes, he’s a bit oblivious, isn’t he?”

“He is.  He knows how much I love him.”  Blaine smiles sadly at Carole.  She always has the right things to say.

“Try not to think about it too hard, and go with the flow.”  Carole gets up and kisses Blaine’s head.  She leads Burt by his shoulders toward the stairs.  “We’re going to bed now.  I’m so happy to have you home.  Goodnight, honey.”

“Don’t stay up too late, kid.  You’re coming to the shop with me tomorrow.”

Blaine laughs and shrugs.  “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.  I have the day off.”  He follows them both into the living room and turns to sprawl on the couch as they go upstairs to bed.  “Goodnight guys, love you.”

Blaine flips through thousands of channels until he finds Bravo.  He hopes it works as a sort of mating call for Kurt as it used to.  He doesn’t pay attention to whatever rerun of whatever show this is, but he thinks about his game plan with Kurt.  There’s not much planned beyond just being himself around everyone and trying his hardest not to let it bother him when he sees Kurt hug or kiss his boyfriend.  His adrenaline from flying across the country is crashing; he rubs his fists into his eyes for a good thirty seconds.  When he can focus on what’s in front of him again, it’s Kurt with a pop-locked hip and a raised eyebrow.  

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t want to go to sleep yet.  Still on California time.”  Blaine smiles and tilts his head.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” 

“You didn’t.  You don’t.  Come here.”

Kurt sits down and shimmies in next to Blaine so that they’re touching down their sides wholly.  He smiles up at Blaine and kisses his lips quickly.  “Hi.”

“Hey, pretty.”  Blaine’s heart skips a beat, literally and figuratively.  

“We made it to Christmas.  I missed you.”

“You know continuing this charade with him is the biggest mistake you have ever made?”

Kurt laughs.  “You are such a baby when you’re not getting your way!”  Kurt kisses him again, leaving his mind fuzzy and blurred.  “I really don’t want to talk about it right now.  Later.  Let me just squeeze you; I love how tiny you are.”  Kurt lays his head to rest on Blaine’s chest and hugs his arms around his waist.

“You really get off on my size, don’t you?  Not only am I so much younger, but I’m, quote, tiny.  I’m like all your fantasies balled up in one, huh?”

“Whatever.”  Kurt smothers him to the point of shortened breaths and gasps for air.  

Blaine squirms to save himself, forcing Kurt to loosen his hold.  “Seriously!  He’s so gross.  I can’t believe you’re with him at all, even if it doesn’t really mean anything to you anymore.”  Blaine thinks.  “And he has a terrible attitude.”

Kurt gives Blaine a pointed look.  “Blaine Anderson, against the world… Blaine, I can’t get close to anyone ever, the guy who literally cursed out my father and probably almost punched him unconscious when you first met him.  Kettle, meet black.”

Blaine grins and puts his hand on top of Kurt’s on Blaine’s waist, playing with his fingers absentmindedly.  “That wasn’t my attitude; that was just a wall you guys had to help me break down.  I didn’t know how to deal well with awesome father figures initially, but I warm up to them, don’t you think?  Now I’m Burt’s favorite.  I’ll have you know Burt hates Oliver already.  He sees right through him.”  There’s a beat.  “I’m sorry I came and ruined it all for you.  I didn’t realize he had plans to come here until after I booked the trip.  Should I get lost?  I can go to San-”

“Hey, no!  This is your family, not his.  He wasn’t even serious about coming with me until he knew you were going to be here and just so you know, for your own piece of mind, he was never officially invited.  He’s just kinda here and I’ve really fucked up in letting him be here.”  Kurt sighs. “I’m sorry this is how it has to be.  I promise next Christmas will be perfect for both of us.”

“Me too.”  A beat.  “I’m sorry you’re so miserable in your relationship.  I’m sorry he doesn’t love you like you need.  I just want you happy.”

“I’m going to be happy as soon as I can get rid of him.”

“Yeah?”

“As long as you’re still willing and able to love me and be with me.”  There’s a pause as Kurt lowers his head back onto Blaine’s chest.  “I don’t pick the most lovable boys, do I?”  It’s a joke directly from Kurt’s lips, but Blaine can’t help but feel a ting in his heart as if he isn’t doing this right the second time around.

“Whatever, pretty boy.  I loved you damn well and you can’t deny it.”

“He thinks I’m still in love with you.”

“You are.”

“Mmmm.”  Kurt shrugs and repositions his head onto Blaine’s shoulder.  

Blaine shakes his head fondly and places a kiss in Kurt’s hair.  “What did he say?”

“That he wishes I look at him the way I apparently look at you.”

“Heart eyes, like I hung the moon?  I’ve noticed it myself.”

“Shut up, Anderson!”  He grins and punches at his bicep.  “He said he wants to have sex… with us, at the same time.”

“He what, now?”  Blaine sits up, eyes wide.  He turns his hips to face Kurt’s body, inadvertently inching away from where they were pressed together thigh to thigh.  “Wait.”

“I know he has this idea that you and I are more compatible than I am with him.”

“We are.”

“He wants to have a threesome; he said that he wants to see our connection first hand.”  Kurt’s treading in very deep water, but Blaine decides to clarify before he really thinks about what this means.

“Pretty… are you asking…”

“No!  It’s really not a good idea.  That’s exactly what I told him.”

“It’s not a good idea at all.  No.  Although I really, really want to have sex with you…” Blaine grins at Kurt’s blush.  “I really can’t with your boyfriend right there watching.”  There’s an eerie silence, only the hum of the dryer down the hall to be heard.  Both Kurt and Blaine are thinking about sex with one another and Oliver watching.  They haven’t had sex with each other in years, and now with these new beginnings in their relationship, phone sex included, it’d be very uncomfortable to have Kurt’s current lover witnessing a full reconciliation in all meanings of the word.  Blaine breaks the silence, gulping audibly and asking the age-old question.  “Why did you bring him here to meet the parents if he’s just a placeholder for when you’re ready to be with me again?”

“He insisted on meeting my family and I had always agreed with him that he should, putting it off when he wanted to actually talk details.  Then I let it slip on the phone that I was excited to see you over the holiday and the next thing I knew, he was Skyping me and cornering me into figuring out the plan.”

“Why didn’t you just say no, especially knowing I was going to be here?”

“I just kept… I don’t know, I’m scared to break up with him.  Every time I try, it looks like he’s going to kill himself and I can’t be responsible for that, Blaine.  I can’t.”

“I didn’t know you’ve been trying.”

“Clearly not well enough.  I wanted to surprise you with it.”

“So you’re not as into him as you look?  I swear I saw heart eyes toward him before.”

Kurt shakes his head.  “They were probably left over from a look to you.”  

Blaine smiles at him and revels in the fact that they’re both finally relaxed enough to be having this conversation, of everything they could possibly talk about after everyone’s gone to sleep.  

Kurt continues.  “I think he knows deep down inside that we’re not going to last, but I don’t want him to run off and slit his throat or something because I dump him too harshly, or over a holiday.  I do care for him as I do any other human being, even if I’m a little distracted sometimes because you’re back in my life.  I want our friendship to get back to where it was before we started dating, Blaine, and I think it’s there.  But he did help me from throwing myself off the deep end when you weren’t there.”

“But then there was that one time when you were throwing yourself over because it was him and not me in front of you with a ring.”

Kurt shrugs.  “I don’t know what to say.”

Blaine sighs and looks at him.  “Baby, do you think him watching me fuck your brains out and you enjoying it more than your time with him is going to do anything for his desire to kill himself?  If anything, it would probably make it worse, yeah?”

Kurt sighs, heavy in thought.  “I just wish we could run away.”

“Let’s go.”

“Blaine, please.  It’s not possible.”

“Maybe not now, given we are here for the sake of celebrating Christmas with _our_ family.  Just remember, no matter what happens with Oliver, that you’re it for me?”

“B...” Kurt lifts his head to wipe a tear and sighs.

“I could try to move on but I don’t think you want me to and God knows I don’t want to, either.  I promise I won’t until you look me in the eye and tell me that I will never have a chance ever again.”

“Let’s fuck in front of him.”

“ _Kurt_.”

“Maybe it is exactly the out I’ve been looking for, though.  I have things to prove to you, too.”

“No, Kurt.  We rushed into the sex the first time, and I think we should concentrate more on getting to know each other again before... we do that again.  It’s supposed to be used for connection, as an act of love.”

“Holy shit.  Blaine Anderson, have you grown up or what? Mister ‘it’s not rape if I’m the one fucking you.’”

Blaine groans and puts his head in his hands.  “Don’t remind me.  I was a stupid, stupid teenager.  But you still fell in love with me anyway.”  Blaine peaks at Kurt through his fingers.

“I forget you’re so much younger than me sometimes.”  Kurt takes Blaine’s hand.  “I think that we _need_ to have sex again.  I think this could be a good chemistry test to see what our next step could be and where we stand now.  We’ll be pulled into an entire slew of emotion we experienced together once before and then maybe I have some reevaluating to do.  I’ll utilize some time management skills and we can finally move forward.”

“Having sex with you could hook you again?”

“Didn’t it the first time?”  Kurt smirks and Blaine laughs.  “Besides, you say that as if I ever severed the tie.”  Kurt laughs but breaks it to groan in his hands.  “God, I’m so nervous!  What are we, in high school?”

“Not anymore.”  Blaine grins evilly, causing Kurt to let out a loud laugh before shamefully covering his mouth and looking up the stairs to determine whether or not his reckless behavior had woken anyone up.  “Blaine, shhhhh.  Don’t make me wake them up!”

“Okay, okay.  Shhhh.”  Blaine settles back into his seat and stares at the lights of the Christmas tree in the corner.  He throws his arm around Kurt’s opposite shoulder and forces Kurt to lean back into him.  They sit in silence, entranced by the twinkle of the white lights against the occasional headlight that catches like a stream across the top of the open window.  

The smell of pine needles and the aftermath of freshly baked Christmas cookies keeps Blaine well aware of the tingling inside his heart, the feeling of being entirely complete with the only family he can choose – Kurt and his parents. 

Blaine turns to Kurt and watches him watch the tree as though it’s about to put on a show.  He whispers to his ex-lover, current best friend, the words he knows he loves to hear.  “My Hummelicious is so beautiful.  How did I ever get so lucky?”

As if it’s on cue, Burt comes treading down the stairs and shakes his head at the pair.  “Aww, Blaine.  I think you’re beautiful too.”

The two jump apart from each other, then relax a bit when it’s just Burt and not Oliver.  “Oh my God!  Dad, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“He’s too busy being the world’s most obnoxious cock block.”  Blaine groans and smoothes out his pants.  

Burt laughs.  “Shouldn’t you?  Sneaking your boyfriend into your bedroom like you’re fifteen?  Whom, by the way, is the biggest douche I’ve ever met, and that includes eighteen-year-old Blaine.  Get him out of your room, Kurt.”

“I didn’t…” Kurt blinks.  “Whatever.  Seriously, Blaine?  Stop talking about him with my parents!”  

“Oh come on!  He’s such a douche!”  Blaine pipes in, throwing his hands up and allowing them to crash down on the couch on both sides of him.  “If he’s in your room, you know that’s against the rules.  Burt specifically said that he can sleep in the guestroom.”

Burt and Kurt look at each other and burst out laughing.  

Blaine’s eyes go wide as he looks between them.  “What?”

“You told my father _everything_ , didn’t you?  That’s why he’s laughing like a crazy person?”  Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine.

“Kurt.  It’s the rules.  You can’t disobey your father.  Go get him out of your room!”  Blaine tries to remain serious, but his teasing smile breaks out by the end of the demand.

Kurt laughs again and looks to his dad.  “Dad, I promise I have it under control.  It’s just a little complicated right now, but Blaine knows where he stands.”

“I’m not part of this ugly triangle.  Just make it quick, because it’s awkward to have him in this house when he’s glaring fireballs into Blaine’s back.  Speaking of, is that why your ex-boyfriend was caressing you gently and telling you how beautiful you are?”

“I’m such a fucking idiot.  What the hell am I doing?”

Blaine straightens up like he’s been stabbed and lifts his body to his feet.  “I’m tired.  I’ll be asleep in Finn’s room.  All alone.  With the ghost of brothers past punching me in the gut for ever letting you go.”  He walks around to the back of the couch and rakes his fingertips horizontally against Kurt’s shoulder blade as he walks toward the stairs.  He stops and turns when Kurt’s hand grabs at his wrist.  He finds himself being pulled down into a less than PG-rated kiss right in front of Burt.

Kurt mutters Blaine’s favorite words against his lips so he can feel them more than he can hear.  “Goodnight, lover.”

Blaine can only smile as a response, and as he ascends, he hears Burt’s thundering laughter and _it’s really not that complicated, Kurt_ echoing behind him. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Blaine lies awake in the morning by himself as a string of undeniable moans from Kurt’s mouth howls through the wall.  The vibration of the low grunts and the high-pitched _yes, Oliver_ flood Blaine’s head like a storm, and it’s all he can do to not interrupt the whole thing.  Next door, it’s clear to Blaine that Kurt is on the receiving end of something dirty and perfect and mind blowing.  Blaine can’t help but react just a bit to the sounds but he abruptly stops his hand halfway down his chest making its way in a straight path to his half-hard cock.  He groans and fixes his pajama pants and throws a tee shirt on, rushing past Kurt’s room and flying down the stairs, three steps at a time.  

“Whoa, kid.  Twenty-five miles per hour into the kitchen; it is law.”  Burt is clearly amused at how distorted and tragic Blaine’s facial expression must be.  He could never hide what he was feeling and right now, he doesn’t give a shit.

Blaine scowls and plops into a seat at the kitchen table, where Carole already has a plate of French toast for breakfast.  “Thanks, Carole.”

“What’s wrong?”  Burt takes a bite of his own breakfast and looks to Blaine for an answer.

“Your son’s boyfriend doesn’t know how to follow guest room rules.  Disrespectful motherfucker.”

Burt stares at him to elaborate. 

Blaine sighs.  “Kurt is on the receiving end of what seems to be an epic blowjob and it’s not fair that not only did it wake me up, but that I have to listen to Kurt make those sounds with someone he doesn’t even love-” There’s a beat.  “Sorry.”  He fills his mouth to the brim with French toast in an effort to stop speaking.

Burt’s already up and sprinting up the stairs.  “Kurt!  Breakfast is ready.”  Blaine can’t help but pause and listen.

In the kitchen, Carole turns to look at Blaine and offers him a sad smile.

“Be down in a minute, Dad!” There is a lewd pop then fumbling and a British giggle and a zipper and a _muah_.  

When Kurt emerges, followed by a shy and timid Oliver, he pats his dad on the shoulder and heads into the kitchen from the bottom of the stairs.  “Morning, Carole.  Blaine.”  

Blaine smiles with a mouthful of carbohydrates, as usual.  “Morning, Kurt.  Merry Christmas Eve.”  He swallows.  “Enjoying your morning so far?”  His words are dripping with sarcasm, undoubtedly in the know of exactly how much Kurt has been enjoying his morning so far.

Kurt sighs, giving him the side-eye of the century.  

Blaine shuffles out of his chair to help himself to a cup of coffee.  He does a double take at the bag sitting next to the percolator, branded with the Lima Bean logo.  He picks it up and stares.

“Julie’s project.”  Kurt explains as he approaches and reaches over him for his own mug with a smile. 

“That’s amazing, Kurt.  Seriously.”  He looks at him.  “Hi.”  Blaine nudges his hip with his own.

Kurt gives him another look, but then a smile and all is right in the world.  

“Apparently there’s an appeal for locally grown coffee, even though this is Ohio and that confuses me.  It’s all her though, I know nothing about it.”

“Proud of you.”

Kurt scoffs.  “I didn’t do anything.  Be proud of Jules.”  He grazes his arm before twirling the opposite way and finds the milk left out on the island.  

Blaine follows suit and holds out his cup while Kurt pours the perfect amount of milk into it.  “Why are you so modest?”  He is well aware of Oliver watching diligently.  He inches in closer; they’re so domestic without even trying.  “I mean, you have nothing to be modest about.  Not even one thing.”  He pauses to bring his voice down to a whisper so only Kurt can hear what’s said next.  “Even the little moans I had the pleasure of waking up to this morning, although I’m pissed they weren’t my doing, pretty.”  Blaine leans in to kiss his cheek and allows his lips to linger perfectly on Kurt’s jaw line.   Blaine smiles into Kurt’s red cheek and breaks away, looking straight at Oliver as he stirs some sugar into his coffee, turning it into the perfect maple color he’s grown accustomed to.  Oliver squints his eyes and Blaine’s sure this means war.

“Guys.  Cut it out.”  Burt gives them both a pointed look that forces Blaine away from Kurt and back to his chair across the room.

“So.”  Blaine says as he situates himself in the same chair he was sitting at before.  “Lima Bean today?  I need to figure out how to wear that apron properly before Julie leaves on vacation.”

“Just because you haven’t worked in years doesn’t mean you’ll never have to again.  Keep those skills sharp just in case the money runs out, kid.”  Burt’s all teasing and fun and games, so Kurt and Blaine laugh naturally.  Oliver scowls.

“Oh shut up, B.  You never wore your uniform the right way anyway.”  Kurt joins them at the table.

“Perks to dating the boss.”  Blaine whips back and winks.

“Was that the only perk-” Kurt cuts himself off and looks at Blaine with wide eyes.  At Burt’s groan, Carole’s headshake, and Oliver’s palm slapped against the table top, Kurt looks away.  “Anyway.  Yeah, we should go check up on the coffee shop.”

Carole tries desperately to change the subject.  She’s nursing her own cup of coffee and sits at the head of the table.  It all feels right, minus one grungy, British houseguest.  “How did your finals go, sweetie?”  

“I think I did fine.  Nothing was hard, just time-consuming.  Remind me to never major in English again, though.  I must have written six-hundred-thousand words in the past week and a half.”

“I thought you were studying law?”  All eyes turn to Oliver, seemingly forgotten in the corner. 

“You know a lot about me, Oliver Twist.”  He raises an eyebrow.  “Yes, I was fixing to carry on in the family business but I changed majors when I transferred to Berkeley and decided to make it a point to not be anything like my father.”  Blaine smiles and takes a sip, pointedly moaning a bit at how _great_ this locally grown coffee is.  Two can play at this game, whatever this game may be.

“Oh!  Oli, do you want coffee?  I forget that not everyone knows where everything is this year!”  Kurt rushes to his side to help him get situated.  “You can help yourself to anything.”

“Yeah, _Oli_.  Mi casa su casa!”  Blaine laughs at his own joke and then louder when he sees Burt turning purple from trying to hold it in.  

Kurt glares at Blaine playfully and shakes his head.  “Not your house, B.”

Blaine places his empty coffee cup in the sink and yawns.  “I’m gonna go get ready.  The Lima Bean is my favorite place in the world.”  He squeezes at Kurt’s shoulder as he passes and whispers, “No more blow jobs without me, pretty boy.”  He says it loud enough for Oliver to hear and systematically cringe.  He laughs at Kurt’s shocked, red face and heads upstairs for a shower.

He enters Finn’s room and sees to straighten up a little before hopping in the shower.  He checks his phone and sees that Santana called and texted, so he calls her back.

“Hey.”

“I woke up this morning to the sounds of Oliver Twist giving Kurt a blow job and I was so jealous that all I tried to do the entire time at breakfast was make him super uncomfortable.”

Santana laughs.  “Did it work?”

“I think so.”

She laughs again.  “You are such an asshole, Anderson.  I thought he was going to combust last night in the car.”

“I wish he would already, fuck!  Remind me why we’re still dealing with him?”

“I don’t know.  Something about if Kurt was single around you then he’d get right back into it like last time and he wants to do it right this time.  That’s a lame ass excuse, though, if you ask me.”

“I know, right?  But we’re in such a good spot now, you know and having Oliver here is like sending us back a few months.  It really sucks.  Fuck, San.”  He breaks down.  He can’t help it; the tears escape and he wipes violently to stop them any way he can.  “It’s killing me seeing him with someone else.”

“Then it sounds like you need to show him just how miserable you are without him.  Stop playing it off like it’s no big deal.  Kurt needs to know how much he’s hurting you!  You know he won’t like it.”

“No, what I need to do is stop meddling and acting like his boyfriend when he already has one.”

“Are you still coming to the Lima Bean?”

“Of course I am.  I’m not gonna stop my whole life because I don’t like Kurt’s cheating bastard boyfriend, babe.  Can you guys pick me up on the way though?  I assume Cha Chi and Starch want some alone time to finish what they started ten feet from my head this morning.”

Santana cracks up; Blaine can envision her face scrunching up when she thinks something is actually hilarious, a rare happening in the world of Santana Lopez.  “Your ability to nickname is impeccable, Anderson.  I’ll see you at like one, then.  We’ll grab lunch at Breadstix so you can get to know my Willa properly?  Then we’ll head over for coffee at the Bean?”

“Sounds good, dinner here is at seven so as long as I’m back by then.  Is Breadstix even open today?  It’s practically Christmas.”

“I guess we’ll find out.  Later, Blander.”

Blaine hangs up the phone and throws it next to him on the mattress.  He’s been weakened by this entire experience so far and he finds himself uncomfortable and nervous.  When Oliver’s not around, Kurt is the definition of “Blaine’s boyfriend” and everything is perfect.  With Oliver here for Christmas, though, Blaine feels like he’s not going to get everything he’s wanted out of Kurt during this trip.  It’s like two steps forward, three steps back.

He loves Kurt so much; he’d do anything for him, but he can’t figure out how to show that with Oliver always right there.  It’s an aching throb throughout his whole body that never fully disappears, like a migraine literally lodged between two sections of his brain.  To have lost someone who once was his entire life is such a severe feeling, almost to the point of being numb, and Blaine can officially no longer handle it.  It’s killing him to see Kurt with someone else, and to be so unconsciously guarded and unlike his true self.  He needs to save him, if it’s all he accomplishes during this trip back home.

Blaine falls back onto Finn’s bed, smashing his head to fall between two tall piles of pillows so he’s completely buried.  He strips, now gloriously naked and previously on his way to the shower, and he punches loudly at the pillow closest to his face.  His frustration is apparent, but only in private.  Maybe he can go on a jog and run this dissatisfaction straight out of his body; it usually helps when he’s stressed out, why not when he’s lonelier than he’s ever been?

The door squeaks to announce that there’s an intruder on his alone time, so he throws the pillows off to the side to see who it is.  When he realizes it’s Kurt, he spreads his naked legs just another inch and covers his face again with another pillow.  

“Leave me alone, pretty.  I’m broken and you can’t fix it.”

“I heard you on the phone and I’m here for a diagnosis.”  Kurt pretends to take notes on his palm.  “Blaine ‘B’ Anderson.  Twenty-three-years old, broken, adorable, forever a dramatic teenager, looks damn good naked and wallowing on a bed.  Deep, uncontrollable love-like feelings for a man who’s taken him through the wringer yet can’t quite shake him, either.  Fear of forever not happening for either of them the way they once planned together.  As miserably lonely as his ex-boyfriend, untrusting heart when said ex says that everything will work out.  Inability to give me some time.  Treatment:  Know that it will and come to the Lima Bean with me.  It’s where we started, B.  I can’t go there without you, not with him here.”

Blaine can’t help but smile while being purposely suffocated by the pillow.  “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Blaine moves the pillow just a hair so he can peak one eye out at Kurt, who’s smirking and waiting patiently for him.  

“You didn’t shower yet?”  Kurt continues.

“I was about to but then I decided to go for a run and I haven’t quite gotten there yet.  Santana’s not picking me up until one.”

“You can ride with us, you know.”

“I figured you’d want some alone time with your boyfriend.”

“Quite the contrary, babe.  He’s just sort of my sex toy right now.  Everything else about him has been pissing me off.  Save me from him?”

“Oh.  So you’re only with him so you’re not single around me, because that would be a travesty.”  Blaine sits up and covers his lap with a pillow.  “This is not fair to me, Kurt. What are you so scared of?”

Kurt whistles from low in his throat and inches closer.  “You really want to know why?”

“Yes.  This is usually why people ask questions.”

“I’m really scared to fuck it all up again and make it worse than it was last time, and this will be our last chance.”

“Oh, Hummel.”

“And I might be prolonging this relationship that I’m not happy in so by the time we’re together, we can stay in the honeymoon phase for a long time because comparatively, my relationship with him would have been hell to your heaven.  Or whatever.”

“Kurt.  We’re amazing together with or without Oliver’s inability to make you happy.  You shouldn’t make yourself miserable until it’s the right time for us.”  Blaine scoots up to get closer and rubs his back.  “We’ve learned so much about what not to do first hand.  The next time we get together will be the last time.  We’re gonna make it if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I still think we should have that threesome.”

Blaine laughs.  “Threesomes suggest having sex with two other people in addition to yourself, and I’m sorry but I’m not at all attracted to Oliver Twist.  I can’t even comprehend how you ever get it up staring at his jacked teeth and disgusting, nappy hair.”

Kurt shakes his head.  “Fine, I want to have sex with you and I want him to watch.  I call bottom.”

“Jesus, Kurt.”

“Come on, you have to have more stamina than that.”

“It’s been a few weeks, pretty boy, and waking up to the sounds of Kurt Hummel moaning ten feet from my pillow doesn’t help.”  He gets up and pulls on his jeans, buttoning them into place.  “I hardly went out when I was back in San Francisco for finals.”  He brushes a piece of undone hair out of Kurt’s eyes and takes his hand.

Kurt looks down at their hands and smiles shyly.  “Uh huh, and why was that?”

“I thought we’d be back together for Christmas.  Without the need for a threesome.”

“Mmmm, I need to buy some time… and condoms.  Have you been tested?”

“I’m clean as of a month ago.”

“Good.”

“The resistance is always something with you.  It’s my damn fault; I can’t stop loving you.”

Kurt sighs.  “Fuck me in front of my boyfriend, B?”

Blaine nods wordlessly.  He takes in all of Kurt’s features as if it’s the first time he’s seeing the sunshine against his face, reflecting like a mirror through his eyes.  It’s the first time seeing the glisten shining out of his smile, his eyes softening, the love pouring out.

“Go shower.  I’ll cancel your ride with Santana.  I love me some jealous Blaine in the car.”  He gets up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.  Blaine brings his hand up to his chest to feel his own heartbeat; there’s a smile on his lips and a fading scar on his heart.  

Blaine shrugs to himself and grabs a towel from Finn’s old (now mostly empty) closet.  He’s not sure what he’s getting himself into with Kurt now, and it’s only because he would do anything for him.  He trusts that Kurt won’t use him for anything raunchy or less than amazing, but there’s always the thought in the back of his head that everything happening is all very dangerous for everyone involved.

As he lathers himself, ridding himself of the filth on his skin from yesterday’s trip, he daydreams about what it would be like to be with Kurt fully again.  If it all happens before Blaine graduates, would Kurt freely come visit him in California?  Would Kurt wind up moving to San Francisco?  Would Blaine move back to Ohio to be with him after graduation?  How is Blaine going to sever the ties with the club and his friends?  There’s so much to work out, but he feels one step closer and that feels like he’s finally getting through to Kurt.  Amen.

**xK &Bx**

Blaine comes barreling down the stairs and slips on the last three, the back of his head making contact fitfully with the third stair.  “What the fuck?”

He opens his eyes to see stars floating in his line of vision as a blurred Oliver comes into his place over him, leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs with a raised eyebrow and no indication of any intention to help.

“Shit.”  Blaine finds his way back up to vertical, rubbing his head and checking for blood.  He retrieves his shoes that had gone flying in any direction and entirely ignores Oliver’s presence, lacing up his combat boots to layer over his jeans.  He stands and smoothes out imaginary wrinkles on his thighs then his black tee and maroon wool cardigan layered on top.  He checks his hair in the mirror by the front door and looks back at Oliver, then walks into the kitchen.  

“I just fell flat down the stairs and your boyfriend legit just stared at me.  I feel like I have a concussion.”

Kurt turns from the sink to look back at him and his jaw drops.  “Shit, Blaine.  You really grew into yourself, didn’t you?”

“Shut up and find me a scarf, pretty boy.”

Kurt laughs.  “Blaine, you’re blushing.”  He fixes the collar on Blaine’s sweater, although it doesn’t need much fixing.  “Are you okay?”  He rubs at the back of Blaine’s head and massages it lightly.  “What color is your coat?”

Blaine closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy Kurt’s touch.  He falls into a pit of relaxation as Kurt twirls a finger around a curl.  “Uhhhh, black pea coat.”

Kurt nods and smiles as Blaine opens his eyes again.  “I have the perfect dark charcoal cashmere piece that will work wonders with your outfit.  I’ll be right back.”  He squeezes at Blaine’s wrist and Blaine watches him go.  There’s something about hating him leave but loving watching him go that sparks interest in his head and he can’t help but laugh to himself for the corniness of his inner monologue.  Blaine watches as Kurt finds Oliver in the foyer and says loud enough for everyone to hear, “Go be nice to Blaine.  I want you to be friends.”

“Not gonna happen.  _Pretty boy?_   You stand for that?”

“Oh, he loves it.  I’ve been calling him ‘pretty boy’ for, like, five years.”  Blaine folds his arms and leans up against the frame of the door.

“It’s Christmas.  Please don’t ruin it, either of you.”

Oliver pulls at Kurt and they walk away from Blaine but of course, Blaine can still hear what’s being said. “Whatever.  Did he say yes to the sex?”

“We’re going to talk about it later.  After you come meet my Julie!”  Kurt leans in, kisses him quickly, and runs up the stairs to find Blaine that scarf.  

Blaine watches the exchange then comes up behind Oliver and puts an arm around his shoulders as soon as Kurt is out of view. “Want to have sex with me, Oliver Twist?”

Oliver sputters and looks into Blaine’s eyes.  “Yeah, but only to see what’s so great about you.  I’m really not seeing it.”

“ _It’s_ not yours to see.  Your boyfriend, however…” Blaine lets go of him.  “We’ll talk details later.  But one question, Oli.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you sure the dude you’re cheating on Kurt with is clean?  Neither of us want your diseases, you know what I’m saying?”

Kurt comes downstairs and smiles at them talking. Blaine pats Oliver on the back and lets Kurt tie the scarf around him.

“Ready, babes?”  Blaine looks to Oliver and winks, leading the way to the car and climbing into the front passenger seat without another word.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt parks and waits for the boys to get out of the car before he starts making his way over to the front door of the Lima Bean.  

Blaine waits for him by the door.  “Panic attack check-in?”

“I’m good.  I know he’s not here.”  Kurt smiles at Blaine and there is a sense of courage in his eyes.  Kurt’s proud of himself.  “Thank you.”

“Okay.  You say the word and we’re gone, okay?”

“I know.”  Kurt opens the door roughly to make the ribbon of bells jingle louder than normal and Blaine grins as he walks inside.  

“It’s really nice to be back where my whole life changed for the better, _and_ with the person who changed me.”

Before Kurt can respond, Julie squeals and runs out from the back room.  “Hi!  Hi!  Hi!”  She flies into Blaine’s arms, who twirls her in a few circles and puts her down.

“Hey Jelly Bean!  I missed you!”

“Me too, Blainey!  You don’t call, you don’t write.  One might think you’re too busy for little old Ohio!”  She grins at Blaine and skips over to Kurt and hugs him tight.  “Hiya, Kurt.”

“Never too busy for you, Skittle-butt.  I’ll be better at staying in touch, I promise.”  Blaine smiles and shuffles closer to Kurt, like a ship pulled by the moon.

Blaine is drawn to Kurt as he’s always been.  He watches the shape of his mouth move as he introduces Julie and Oliver, how he extends his neck up and over to the door when the ribbon rings, indicating Santana and Willa walking in from the subzero temperature of winter in Ohio.  It’s all a blur when Kurt introduces Willa to Julie as “each other in different states.”  Santana takes Blaine’s hand and squeezes to show some level of support.  They all head to the back room to show the newbies who haven’t been here before everything.  Blaine watches Kurt’s fingers curl around Oliver’s absentmindedly, maybe as a friendly reminder to say that he’s still there next to him as he meets all of these new people or maybe as a conscious thing to pretend he feels something for Oliver in the meantime, until all the ducks are lined up and all systems are a go for the Kurt and Blaine Extravaganza, Part Two.  When they all follow Kurt back onto the floor, Blaine takes a few steps backwards until he’s swaying.  He leans up against the pole next to his Carrie Table with his eyes screwed shut, trying his damnedest to scare away his own panic attack in the back of his throat.  

It’s really hard to see them together because Kurt is acting so different in front of all his old (and new) friends.  Blaine trusts what Kurt is promising to him in private is true, but seeing something entirely different is making his nerves shake effortlessly.  The feeling of loneliness is overwhelming, to the point of Blaine’s sincere insecurity that he can even survive this.  It is this very table that started everything between them five years ago, and now Kurt won’t even look over to it or Blaine in another man’s presence.  He’s the fifth wheel this Christmas, and it hurts because it’s supposed to be Kurt and Blaine following each other all over the world, setting each other free and taking their breath away together as one.  He came to Ohio for Christmas with every intention of starting fresh, of starting new, of simply starting his life over with Kurt Hummel still at his side.  

He should have cancelled when Oliver confirmed.

Now, he watches Kurt lead Oliver behind the counter to show him the machinery and then they venture to the back room again, with Santana and Willa following them hand-in-hand, and he sighs.  Today could have been such a special, new beginning.  Maybe Blaine isn’t Kurt’s type after all.  

Julie tilts her head as if to silently question _what’s wrong_ , and his half-smile seems to bum her out.  He brushes the small of her back as he rushes toward the bakery case where Kurt’s finishing up the mini-tour.  

“…This used to only be one case but we needed another one once the croissants started moving a little too quickly a few years back.”  His eyes finally meet Blaine’s.  “And that’s it!”

What’s next all happens in slow motion for Blaine, like a shoot out between a cowboy and Indian.  Kurt leads the group over to the counter to watch Julie work her magic.  Oliver’s waiting somewhat impatiently as she works to create a foam masterpiece, leaning against the exact spot where Kurt dominated Blaine in the beginning of their relationship, where Blaine came harder than he’d ever come before in his entire life five years prior.  

He thanks her for the coffee and backs up from the counter and glides straight into Blaine’s seat at the Carrie Table.  

Blaine sees fire and death and rage and the third center of Hell in front of his vision.

The lump in Blaine’s throat is something he can’t keep down; it’s a piece of coal lying heavy on the base of his tongue.  The rage in his eyes is a dark, fiery black hole burning through his sockets, searing straight through the saline of his tears, heating the moisture to a boil.  As Oliver works to settle his ass into Blaine’s chair so he’s comfortable, Blaine sees to it that he’s not comfortable here ever again.  His legs work without his brain telling him to walk and his hands are fisting into Oliver’s ugly sweater and throwing him out of the chair and across the room before he even recognizes that he’s moved closer toward the douchebag.  

Blaine slams Oliver so he slides back and up against the sharp corner of the closest bakery case, the small of his back punctured on the metal.  He sees Oliver’s mouth open; he must scream in pain.  It sounds mute behind the ocean in Blaine’s ears, behind the cry out of _what the fuck!_ and _Blaine!_ and _oh my God!_ from Kurt and Santana and Julie, behind the loud jingle of the wretched bells against the glass of the front door, of each footstep as he race-walks back toward Burt and Carole’s neighborhood.  The ocean prevents his ears from functioning; he doesn’t realize that Kurt is running after him until he’s halting in front of him to stop him in his path.  He’s in a fitful trance of jealousy, of possessive and sizzling resentment for both Oliver and himself; he feels he could kill a man right now with his bare hands.  He hardly sees Kurt as he pushes at his shoulders with the palm of his hands to slow his stroll, and he certainly doesn’t realize it’s Kurt as he shoves him out of the way.  He only understands it’s Kurt when he yelps and stumbles back, luckily catching himself before falling into the street on his rear.

“Blaine!  Baby, stop!”  Kurt runs around to Blaine’s front again and conforms himself into a human shield, putting his fists up to his face so if he’s pushed away again, he’ll just swing a punch.  At least that’s why Blaine imagines Kurt would ever need his fists in his face around Blaine.

Blaine can see Kurt now, so fragile and docile, like a little lamb looking for the next meal provided by his mother.  Kurt shakes his head and sighs when he must realize that he’s finally gotten through Blaine’s wall, willing the tears to fly off his cheek without any further effort.

“Blaine.  Baby, please.  He didn’t know, honey… please.”

“Stop.”

“Blaine, come on… you’re okay.”

“Stop fucking making excuses for my behavior, Kurt!  It’s not fair that you do that.”

“Blaine.”

“Go be with your boyfriend, Kurt.”

Kurt takes his hand and laces their fingers together.  “I am.  I ran after you, not him.”  

They keep walking in silence, and Blaine sighs.  He’s openly crying so hard that he can’t walk straight, so when Kurt leads him up against a building and sits him on the cold sidewalk, he doesn’t complain.  “Fuck, pretty.  I’m so sorry.”  He gasps for air.   “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really this depressed without me?”

“Welcome to my life for the past two years, Hummel.”

Kurt responds with a tight hug around his side and a head to Blaine’s shoulder.  “I don’t know how to fix you.  I didn’t three years ago, and I don’t know how now.  Is it enough if we just be?”

“Permanently cursed without you; I think just being will be more than enough.”

“Hey.  You’re never without me.  Not anymore.”

“Right now, I am.  Kurt, all I want out of my life is you.  That’s it.  Everything else is just gravy.”

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose and hangs his head.  “We keep having the same conversation.  What is it that you want me to do?”

“I want you to be my boyfriend so that eventually I can propose to you and then I want to be your husband and then I want to be your baby’s daddy.  I want everything with you, Kurt, and you are showcasing all that I can’t have by having Oliver here.  I’m done fighting for you and I’m done fucking waiting.”

Kurt lets a tear fall.  Blaine wipes it as he continues.  He pulls Kurt into his body; they connect on every pressure point as he brings his previously angry voice down to a whisper.

“I’m not yelling at you, I’m just frustrated that this is how it is.  This is our place.  That table is ours; the whole fucking building is ours.  That’s our apartment and where we lived together for the first time ever, Kurt.  It’s the beginning of our relationship; it’s where we met and that’s our place and you tainted it by bringing him there.”

“It’s still ours, no matter who walks through that door, Blaine.  Oliver only came to Christmas because he heard you were coming.  You are feeding into everything he is here for – to prove that he’s the better choice, as if he even has a chance.  As flattered as I am that you two are fighting over me, I can’t have you get hurt.  I followed you to make sure you were okay.  I need you to be fine, I don’t care about anything else.”  Kurt kisses Blaine, long and hard.  “We win this in the end.  Don’t you dare give up on me now.”

“That’s not fair, because it’s Christmas and if I’m going to have you for the rest of my life, I want to start with the best Christmas ever.  And your birthday is this week and I wanted to make it all special for you without getting the judgment from him.  I wanted to glorify your body and spend time with just you for your birthday, and I wanted to give you incredible, boyfriend-y Christmas gifts.  I want to shower you with every ounce of my love and I’m being put on the backburner just because someone else is here with you, someone you don’t even care about enough to just let go.  You’re stringing him along too, Kurt, and it’s not fair to either of us.”

“You’re going to have me for the next sixty-five Christmases, B.  Let me try to do this my way.”

“Yeah but… in twenty-thirteen, you did it your way and it still wound up being my way in the end.  You always try to do it your way and you always give into me eventually.  Your way takes too fucking long.”  He lets out a shaky breath.  “Look, Kurt.  I love you so much; I love you more than I ever even knew I was capable of.  It’s an insane connection between us and it’s totally unhealthy and I’m the first to admit that.  So let’s just skip the drama bullshit.  I’ll do whatever you need me to in order to make this right.  Just… can we please try again?”

“Blaine.  I need to get rid of him first, okay?”

“No.  I’ve put myself through all this shit by witnessing all of you people with each other.  I can’t wait forever, and I will never ask you to choose.  But think about it, who would you rather have next to you for the rest of your life?”

“You know exactly who.”

“So then why are we even having this conversation, Kurt?  Holy shit, you are so fucking frustrating.  Am I crazy?  Am I living in this parallel universe where no one can see me or how I feel?  I’m just here totally alone and on a different fucking wavelength?” Blaine rolls his eyes.  “I’m really mad at you.”

“We should get back to the Bean.  Come on, maybe you’ll surprise me and apologize for irrationally throwing him into a piece of stainless steel.  Maybe you’ll be saying sorry to him, but you’ll mean for it to be to me.”

“I will never be sorry for anything I do because I’m affected by you.  You can forget that right now.  I was protecting our table from someone who was not authorized to sit there.”

“Fair enough.  You shouldn’t apologize for the way you feel, as untamable as you are sometimes.  Can you apologize for putting me in the middle of a situation that’s very difficult for me?”

“Oh my God, Kurt!  You are acting like a crazy person!  _You_ put yourself in this situation.  There would be no middle without him.”

“I don’t have the strength I need to be with you yet, Blaine!  I am slowly regaining my trust in you.  I’m trying to psych myself out that you’ll never leave again, because I will not fucking make it if I need to go through that kind of heartbreak again.  Can’t you see?”

Blaine chokes on a sob.  “Finally, the truth comes out.  At least you’re resisting with a reason.”

“Please come back to the Bean.  We’ll hang out for a while and then Christmas Eve dinner at my parents’?  They love you; I love you.  Let’s make this what it is and ignore the presence of the random house guest in the corner?”

Blaine nods and pulls out a cigarette from his back pocket.  “Sure.  Whatever.  Still mad at you, though.”  At Kurt’s amused stare and raised eyebrow, Blaine rolls his eyes.  “Shut up.”  He lights it and jumps up to make his way back to the Lima Bean.

“I didn’t say a word.”  Kurt follows him and runs to catch up.  “But, why?”

“I picked it up for when I’m stressed.  It usually works better than punching people.  Hindsight is twenty-twenty though; it does nothing for throwing British douchebags across coffee shops in a fit of rage.”

Kurt laughs, forcing Blaine to let a smile escape.

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart so badly.”

“It’s over now, but are you sure we’re okay?  I don’t want to lose you and I feel like we’re teetering somewhere between forever and never.”

Blaine feels like he’s coming apart at the seams.  He’s being jostled and ripped and cornered and placed roughly in the middle of the room in front of the firing squad and for what?  He lets out a shaky breath and stops walking, although his hand carries on forward with Kurt until he feels the resistance.  

Kurt turns to look at him.  

He sucks on his cigarette.  “We’re perfectly fine as soon as you make up your mind, Kurt.  If I’m not with you completely by Valentine’s Day, showing up at your doorstep with a million lavender roses or whatever you order with my credit card, then I have failed in trying to get you back and I’m not going to keep trying.”

“I don’t want to feel like it’s a ticking time bomb.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we are without each other, though?”  Blaine lets that resonate in Kurt’s head for a few seconds, then tugs at his arm to cross the street and they walk silently but connected together all the way back to the Lima Bean, fingers and souls connected as one.  He stops Kurt in front of the coffee shop.  “I love you, Kurt Hummel.  I do.  But I can’t be manhandled like this anymore.  Be with me or don’t.  There’s no in between.”

Kurt lets go of Blaine’s hand and it feels like a gunshot to the palm as he watches Kurt hustle back inside.  He inhales and exhales, and mimics Kurt’s movements to go inside, only to find Santana slapping him across the face. 

“What the fuck, Santana?”  Blaine’s hand cradles his cheek and he winces at the flaming skin.

“ _That_ is not going to win him back, Anderson.  Asswipe went to a hotel because, quote, he needs to figure out a plan of attack.  This whole bad boy act resurfacing from years ago is not fucking showing Kurt how you can’t live without him, numb nuts.  And it’s not cute now that you’re old.”

“Ah, it must be fucking Christmas.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Name calling and slaps in the face and completely ruining any good mood I could have had today.  What’s next, Lopez?  You gonna push me down the stairs?”

“Blaine, I-”

“Save it for someone who fucking gives a shit.  Kurt, I need the keys.”

Kurt is watching the altercation, standing with Jules as she frantically huddles over search engine results for what hotel Oliver could have possibly gone to.  Kurt stares at them, wide-eyed and jaw entirely too relaxed.

“Give me the keys, Kurt.  I need an out now before I go to fucking jail for knocking Santana out ’cause she knows nothing – _nothing!_ – about me.  The keys.  Kurt.”

Kurt tosses them to him, still staring from the corner, and clenches his iPhone with white knuckles.  

“Thank you.”  He leaves as roughly as he used to on his worst days with his father and hops into the BMW.  There’s nothing he can do to control his anger so much so that he thinks the windows might be steaming and he punches the steering wheel repeatedly so hard that the horn is going off every time he makes contact.  He bites down hard on his knuckles and watches as the blood pools on the exterior of his finger, enabling him to see exactly how he feels on the inside.  He’s mentally bleeding out and there’s no one to put pressure on the wound.  

Fifteen minutes go by before Kurt comes out and slides into the passenger seat.  “Bring me home.”

Blaine looks at him and leans over the console to wipe his tears.  “Where’s that?”  Blaine’s voice is a soft whisper, a bit raspy from the screaming, but hopefully familiar to Kurt anyway.

“Wherever you want.  Wherever you’re going, just take me with you.”

They can only situate themselves at Burt’s house, although there are questions of Oliver’s disappearance on the tips of Burt’s tongue.  Both Kurt and Blaine wave him off with red-rimmed, sad eyes and Burt must know exactly when he should drop it.

The boys retreat to Kurt’s room without a word and curl into each other for the remainder of the afternoon.  Christmas Eve dinner is in a few hours still, but all Blaine needs is Kurt’s hand resting on his hipbone as he shifts closer around his body, capturing all of his senses and making it better.  

“Kurt?”

“Rest, B.  Let’s just do nothing for a while, yeah?”

“I just… I’ve been thinking, and I’ve learned the lesson, okay?”

Kurt sighs.  He hooks his chin on Blaine’s shoulder.  “Elaborate.”

“I know now that one should only leave their boyfriend if they’ve fallen out of love.  Any other reason is stupid and unnecessarily complicated.”  There’s a beat.  “And I think I needed to learn that away from you.”

Kurt sits up, pulling Blaine up with him.  “Honey, do you trust me?”

Blaine nods, the motion of his head swirling up and down like an unsynchronized bobble head.

“Are you ever going to stop being a whiny teenager?”

Blaine smiles and shakes his head.  “Unlikely.”

“Well, I can deal with that.  Just trust me when I say I have a plan, and it starts with that threesome of ours.”

“You’re seriously considering that?  Even now?”

“What do you mean?”

“He checked into a hotel, Kurt.  Is he breaking up with you?”

“Probably not, honestly.  He’s really… um, attached.  I think it’ll take a lot more than that for him to leave me of his own will.”

Blaine blinks.  “I gotta say, pretty boy.  Cockiness looks really good on you.”  He wiggles his eyebrows.  “Also, coc-”

“ _Uh uh!_   No immature sexual innuendos!”  Kurt’s grinning; he’s joking around, making the mood lighter.

“I feel bad for blowing up on Santana.”

“That was pretty harsh.  You know she didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.  I just took everything else out on her.  It was easy, you know?”

“Apologize to her before too much time goes by, honey.  She didn’t deserve that.”

“I will.”  Blaine hugs Kurt and flips them back down onto the mattress, smiling at him as he shamelessly straddles him.  Staring into clouded eyes and engraining the experience into their brains for all eternity, they stay intertwined to take it all in.  “I’m really sorry... for everything.”

“Forget about it.”

“Can’t.  I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Fine, but stop beating yourself up about it.  I love you, especially when you’re an idiot.”

The mood in the room shifts and it’s suddenly thick with a fog of desire.  They stare at each other, willing the other to make the first move until Blaine starts to rub up and down Kurt’s clothed sides.

All too quickly, there’s a knock at the door and Blaine turns to lie on his back as a response.  “Come in!”

“You two decent?”  Burt’s rumble of a laugh echoes through the room as he peeks in with one eye.

“We’re fine, Dad.”  Kurt sits up again and shakes his head.  “What’s up?”

“Dinner’s almost ready.  Just wanted to get a final count for place settings.  Will the Brit be joining us?”

“No, Dad.  Just the four of us.”

“Do I need to help you hide a body, Blaine?”  Burt chuckles; Blaine watches his shoulders vibrate.

Blaine sits up and shakes his head, laughing because Burt is literally the best father on this planet.  He pushes himself off the bed and holds out a hand for Kurt. 

Kurt takes it and rolls off the mattress.  “Oliver is staying at a hotel tonight.  I’m not sure if he’ll be back.”

“And I assume it has something to do with Blaine’s presence?”

“You should know by now that it always has something to do with my presence, Burt.”

“Maybe that’s true, kid.  But in my eyes, that’s a good thing.”

“You’re always so self-deprecating, B.”  Kurt chimes in and bumps his hip with Blaine’s.  They all head downstairs as a pack and venture into the kitchen while maintaining the conversation.

“So you two took a longer-than-normal break from knowing each other, and then you went through a lot of ups and downs to get to where you are now, which from where I’m sitting is a grown-up version of how you were.  The point is that Kurt’s world slips off its axis as soon as you show up again, and the same goes for yours.  That’s not a coincidence.  This was all meant to be.”

“I have to go.  This Hummel romance is making me sick.”  Blaine grins and hides his face in Carole’s shoulder.  “Help me, they’re trying to seduce me by way of fate.”

Carole dries her hands on her jeans and squeezes Blaine, a motherly instinct to protect.  “Awww, poor baby.”

Kurt takes the salad from the island and places it on the table.  “Screw you!  I didn’t say a word.”

“You wanted to.  You’re agreeing with everything he says.”  Blaine kisses Carole’s cheek and starts gathering silverware for the table.  The four of them dance around each other until a grand spectacle of Christmas Eve dinner is on the table.  Blaine takes a fraction of time to quietly thank his lucky stars for the Hummels becoming a constant in his life again.  He wouldn’t have survived without them.

So dinner goes off without a hitch, although somewhat spontaneously changed with the lack of Kurt’s boyfriend and honestly, Blaine couldn’t be happier as he shovels mashed potatoes in his mouth with his right hand and squeezes Kurt’s thigh with his left.  Everything is almost okay.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Songs Used in This Chapter:**   
**Twin Forks – Back To You**   
**Zedd – Clarity**   
**Pat Benatar – Love is a Battlefield**

Hi, guys! I'm sorry this is late... I'm running around crazy six hours before vacation! I'll be in Florida until Wednesday, but will try to post. I just can't promise anything because I don't know what the Internet situation is going to be like. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one! Review and let me know... hang in there, I promise everything gets better :P

xoxo,  
Nikkie

\--

The sun is shining high in the nearly cloudless but still December-cold sky, and Kurt squints when he looks up into it.  He slouches back over his old desk and shifts in the chair, hovering over a ratty and worn journal.  He writes as if life depends on it, as if the thoughts in his brain won’t compute if he concentrates on something as petty as spelling and grammar and legible handwriting.

It’s easy to watch him in this state, almost euphoric and blissfully content with the way this particular situation is laid out in front of him.  Wearing only boxers and a frown, Kurt sighs like a little boy and continues on.  Blaine props himself on his own elbow and allows himself to become mesmerized by each scratch and swirl of Kurt’s hand against the lined paper, the thick furrow of Kurt’s brow as he’s thinking how he should say whatever it is that’s so detrimental to convert into something tangible.  

Kurt’s written words flow out of his pen easily.  He briefly pauses to flip the page to a fresh one as though he is on some sort of strict deadline.  After a few minutes of frantic, desperate words bleeding out in a disturbing screech against the notebook, Kurt leans to straighten his back and rub at the nape of his neck like he has a cramp.  He speed-reads what just spilled into the world and he clenches and unclenches his fist.  He seems satisfied, but could also just be choking it up to the beauty of a first draft.  

As an English major and Creative Writing minor, Blaine can identify with the feeling of the faux-success before the edit.  The first time around is when the ideas spill out onto the paper as the brain sees fit without thinking, without truly analyzing what should and shouldn’t be said, what _has_ to be said and what doesn’t.  He sees the look on Kurt’s face as he reads back what he’s created, and he knows that the edit will be simple, but fiercely needed.  Kurt reads it again and then one more time and sits back to start the process of the reevaluation.  Blaine wishes he could latch onto Kurt’s thought process and promise it that the second time around any situation is always better and well thought out.  It is the same experience but with concrete knowledge.  It’s always better the second time.

“Come back to bed.”

The slam of the journal and the subsequent bury of it into the single drawer where a keyboard used to live doesn’t go unnoticed.  Kurt turns in his chair with a tense look on his face as though he’s simply been caught thinking too hard.  

“Kurt?”  Blaine pushes up so he’s sitting, facing Kurt in a way that can show him that he’s present.  “What’s up?”

“Nothing.  Sleep well?  Did I wake you?”

“What were you writing?”

Kurt smiles at him and climbs back into bed, pulling Blaine down into a horizontal position with him and cuddling their legs together.  “You saw that, huh?”

“What was it?”

“The shrink in New York tells me that it’s good to have a journal of dreams.”

“You mean nightmares?”  Blaine finds Kurt’s fingers and holds onto them the same way an infant would.  “Or good stuff, too?”

“Good stuff, too.”   He leans into Blaine’s chest and sniffles.

“But not this time.”

“But not this time.”  Kurt confirms it but he really doesn’t have to, what with the saddened facial expression and low, throaty sigh he releases against Blaine’s undershirt.

Blaine pulls him closer and kisses his forehead.  “You’re okay now?”

“Yeah.”

“Positive?”  
  
“I swear.”

“Okay.”

They lie together, fighting with the silence and the faint sizzle of breakfast they can hear downstairs.  There are mumbles of voices whispering and drawers slamming and then a too-loud bang of a fist against the front door.  Kurt and Blaine continue to cuddle, not once taking their eyes off of each other, blocking out the commotion until it’s as far away as possible.  They’re gloating in their own personal moments together, before they’ll need to cover it back up.  It’s like they’ve gone down the rabbit hole and when they re-surface, they’ll never be the same.

Several minutes of spinning into yellow gold and ocean blue pass and Blaine’s mouth twitches up in a movement that would have been missed if it didn’t linger.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas to you, B.  Love you.”

“You’re going to therapy.”

“I am.  It’s been just about two years, although I haven’t seen her in a long time because I’ve been here.”

“Are you doing okay without her?”

“Maybe this is the most unhealthy thing I’ll ever say, but I don’t need her when you’re around.”

“Mmm, we should go downstairs.”

“Five more minutes?”

Blaine grins into Kurt’s neck and nips at it.  “Love you.”

Kurt moans and turns his face to give Blaine more access.  “Blaine, we can’t.”

“I know.”  He sighs.  “I wish this was our forever.”  Blaine plops back down on his back and stares at the ceiling with his palms cradling the back of his head.

“Well…”  Kurt smiles, “Keep wishing, beautiful.  Soon enough.”

God, Blaine hopes so.  Last night after Christmas Eve dinner, _Home Alone 2_ , and homemade mocha macchiatos, Kurt wordlessly led Blaine upstairs and into his bed.  They stripped promptly and thoroughly, thus ensuring that they haven’t lost their love yet.  Without any discussion whatsoever, they mended each other’s shredded hearts and promised forever.  They didn’t have sex, not quite, but it was something almost better.  Just holding each other closely and falling asleep in the arms of the man they love was enough to confirm the connection.  The intense make-out session was simply an added bonuses.  Everything is an act of love when Kurt and Blaine are involved.

They specifically didn’t let it get too far, although they both clearly wanted more.  This is for the good of their relationship in the long run; they’re still building up the foundation. 

Blaine climbs over Kurt’s body to find some clothing.  “Do you know if _Oliver_ is still in Ohio?”

“I’m… not sure.  Frankly, after yesterday and the night you and I just had, I really don’t care.”

“I don’t want to be the only reason why you’re breaking it off with him, if that’s what you’re doing.  And I want you to take some time alone after him if you need it.  I don’t want to unintentionally turn into a rebound.”

“Hey.”  Kurt sits up and grabs Blaine’s wrist, pulling him back down onto the bed.  “Oliver is the rebound.  You will never be the rebound.”  Kurt bites Blaine’s lip but keeps his eyes open.  “Oliver is not what I want, okay?  _When_ I do break it off with him, whenever that is, you will definitely not be the only reason.  But you are a huge one.”

“Are you calling me fat, Hummel, because we already had this discussion.  With you not around to judge my carb intake…”

“Oh my God, shut up.  I adore your little belly.  Can you ever have a serious conversation?”

“For the life of me, I can’t get rid of it!  I have even tried a strict running schedule.  I run endless miles every week and for what?”  Blaine pouts down at his stomach.

“It’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”  There’s a beat.  “You argued with Oliver about me, didn’t you?”

Kurt shrugs.

“I could tell by the way you were in the car yesterday.  What did he say?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t already heard.”

“Kurt.  What’d he say?  I can handle it.”

“Just that he’s…  Blaine this isn’t important.”

“It’s important if it made you upset.  Tell me or I’ll make him tell me.”

Kurt explodes upward and finds some clothing, racing against the clock to get dressed.  “Go ahead.”

Blaine stares at Kurt with his jaw slack and his eyes blinking rapidly.  “Pretty, I-”

“Does the fact that I’m closer to forty than twenty bother you?”  Kurt throws one of Blaine’s undershirts on and jumps into a pair of his own pajama pants.

“It’s just a number, Kurt.  Why are you bringing this up?  As if this was ever our issue?”

“Are you attracted to Oliver the way he says he likes you?”

“What?”

“My boyfriend is attracted to the man I plan on spending my life with.”  Kurt laughs a bit to himself.  “That freaks me out a little bit.  I’m not made for love triangles, Blaine.  I’m destined to have a forever kind of love.  With you.  Regardless of how much younger you are.”

“Where the fuck is this all coming from?  Honestly, you’re scaring me.”

“I feel like I’m holding you back or something.”

“Do you think I feel like you’re holding me back?  Because I feel like you’re holding yourself back since you keep thinking this way.”

“We’re not even together, how could we be?”

“I should ask you the same question.”  There’s a beat.  “Is this about your birthday?  About you turning thirty-five tomorrow?”

Kurt looks up at him, pitiful and on the verge of tears.

Blaine hums.  “Okay.  Stop.  You are beautiful and you still have all your hair and it’s the color it’s always been and there are no wrinkles... yet.”  Blaine grins and cups his chin.  “You’re not old yet, Kurt.  Stop.  And I’m not attracted to Oliver the way he evidently is toward me, but I will say that I’ve had a lot of sexual partners now and you’re still the best fuck I’ve ever had because you _love_ me.”  Blaine tilts his head and sighs. “This is an awkward segue, but all I know is that I can’t stop thinking about this fucking threesome to save a life and it’s really distracting because I know you’re going to be there.  I think that’s why I allowed myself to let you cheat on him last night… because I thought maybe I’d stop thinking about it.”  Blaine taps his fingers to his chin and shuffles on the bed to straddle Kurt’s body.  “What if I’m on this bed, right?”  Blaine kisses Kurt quick and pops his ass to act out a demonstration.  “Doggy style, like this you know?  You’re fucking me from behind, like really impaling me with the sole purpose of inability to walk afterwards or ever again, and Oliver’s standing in front of me, just out of reach, and every time I sink back onto your cock, my mouth is further from _his_ cock, so he’s like… chasing me for a blowjob and for a split second, I wish I could have both of you at exactly the same time… his cock heavy on my tongue and yours filling me up.”

“Holy shit, B.”  He whispers the words, encouraging Blaine to continue.

“But then, I stay situated on your cock even though you’re trying to thrust out.  I make you choose and you clearly choose me because honestly?  So I’m like… all still and refusing to move off of you, you know?”  Blaine lowers his voice for effect.  “And you manage to move…”

Kurt’s cock meets Blaine’s through his boxers and they find a rhythm.  Their lips connect but Kurt ultimately shuts it down, if only to hear the rest of what Blaine’s envisioning.  

“…Rougher than we ever did it before, _shit_.  And you just let me do whatever I need to so that we can show little Miss Oliver, _fuck Kurt_ , that he is nothing but the dirt on the bottom of my shoe next to me and I make you-uu co-come so hard, _so hard Kurt_ , almost as hard as I did that night at the Lima Bean and almost as hard as I’m about to.”  He pauses, holding Kurt’s shoulders down and breathes. “And I’ll fucking flip you mid-orgasm so that I can watch you, with _my name… not his_ at the tip of your tongue, and then we can live happily ever… _mmmm ahhh_ , after.”

Blaine allows his eyes to close as he comes hard and fast, Kurt underneath him writhing and on the cusp.  He places the palm of his hand directly to Kurt’s cock, and they squirm together to see it through.  Blaine slowly opens his eyes and sees Kurt watching him with a smirk on his lips and a tilt to his head, seconds after letting it all go himself.

“It appears you are made for the triangle, pretty boy.”

Kurt backhands Blaine’s cheek playfully and laughs.  

Blaine squirms to protect his face and laughs.  “Hey!  Stop!”  He laughs again then freezes to stare at his… his Kurt.  “You are so beautiful.”

“Look at you.  Are you kidding?”

“ _Kurt._ ”

Kurt looks into Blaine’s eyes and smiles wide.  “I love you so much.”  He grabs at Blaine’s hips and tugs, guiding his hands to Blaine’s cock loosely under his boxers so it can breathe, and strokes it a few times to tease.  He connects their lips again and they revel in a too-sloppy, high-school-themed molestation of a kiss.

Kurt pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  “You know in _Rent_ where Mark makes a documentary about not being able to hold an erection because it’s a high holy day?”

Blaine giggles because he knows exactly where it’s going.  “I’m not Jewish, Kurt.  I’m allowed to have an erection on Christmas.”

Kurt laughs and falls on top of him, singing, “Happy Birthday, Jesus.”

They lie together for only about thirty seconds before Kurt gets off of him and brushes himself off a bit.  “So turns out, I have a deep love for all things Blaine Anderson.”

“If we were to get back together now, with me about to graduate college… how would that work?”

Kurt pulls back to look at him in the eye.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean… long distance relationship, or…  I don’t know.  How would it work?”

“Do you remember when we were in New York and I tried to visit Burt and Carole one weekend? You couldn’t get away from all your work at Columbia.  Do you remember how miserable we both were?”

“We don’t need to talk details yet.  It’s not relevant yet.”

“I promise we’ll talk about them when they are.”

“Good.  But can you do something for me now?”

“What’s that?”

“Stop allowing people… Oliver… inside your head, trying to convince you that stupid shit that never bothered us before is going to put a wrench in our future now.  It sounds like he’s trying to pull out all the tricks to keep us apart, and I won’t have it.  Even _your boyfriend_ knows you and I are forever, pretty.”

“We partake in more intellectual conversation directly after frottage and dirty talk than I ever could with Oliver and he’s two years older than I am.  The fact that you have yet to graduate college blows my mind because you are so beyond your years.  If anything, it should have bothered me when you were in high school.”  Kurt gets up and finds Blaine’s old Dalton hoodie thrown in the corner, slipping it on effortlessly.  He disappears into the bathroom for a total of ten seconds and throws a wet rag at Blaine to clean himself up.  He retrieves socks from his drawer, too.  “I feel like it should bother us, but it just doesn’t.”

“Love you.  Kurt?”

Kurt laughs and sits back down on the bed.  “What?”

“When this sex thing happens with Oliver, can I have permission to make out with him?”

“Do whatever you want with him, but the kissing goes highly not recommended.  It’s gross.”

Blaine props himself up on his knees and clasps his own two hands together through the kangaroo pocket of Kurt’s newly claimed sweatshirt, pulling his body back down on top of Blaine.  “How gross?”

“Seriously gross.”

“Show me, pretty.”  Blaine removes his hands trapped between their bodies and threads them through Kurt’s hair.  He pulls Kurt’s head close and forces a kiss hard onto his lips.  Kurt happily grants access to the taste of his mouth and they’re soon making out like teenagers on Kurt’s high school bed.  Licking and sucking, they’re both trapped in the moment teetering once again into the complication they can’t grasp on their own yet.  Surprisingly enough to himself at least, Blaine is the first to break the kiss complete with a warm smile and a need to just hold Kurt close for a few seconds more.

“Mmmm, my Blaine.”

“Your Blaine is very hungry.  Christmas coffee and crepes, maybe?”

Kurt nods and climbs off of him.  “You do realize you’re never eating a carb again once we live together?”

“Shut up and gimme a hoodie, pretty boy.”  He throws on some flannel pajama pants, opting for comfort on Christmas Day, as Kurt finds a McKinley hoodie in the closet and they wordlessly waltz down the stairs and into the kitchen.   

Oliver is there, waiting, and scrambles up to retrieve the two coffee cups, thankfully still steaming on the counter.  He hands one cup to Blaine and one to Kurt. “Good morning, guys.”  He leans over to kiss Kurt, but steps back quickly after a small peck that Kurt subconsciously pulls away from as well.  Blaine snickers behind his hand when he realizes that his taste must still be in Kurt’s mouth.  Kurt and Blaine exchange a caught look but then Kurt smiles and Blaine has no choice but to take his lead.

“Thanks, man.  I’m sorry about last night… I sometimes forget you don’t know all of the history and I got territorial for no reason.  You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s really big of you to apologize, B.  Thanks.”  Kurt adds to Oliver’s short response.

Blaine nods and avoids anything further by leaving the two to sit by Burt and Carole, hugging them both tightly and muttering his obligatory “merry Christmas” to his family.

Burt gives Blaine a pointed look, as if to silently ask him what’s up.  Blaine holds the cup of coffee up to his lips and whispers, “later.”

**xK &Bx**

The late lunch that Carole prepares goes as well as it can with the awkward elephant in the room now that Oliver’s back without any explanation to Kurt’s parents.  Dessert is served and then Blaine is vibrating, begging his family to open presents.

There’s plenty of laughter and teasing as everyone takes their time situating themselves in the living room.  Carole mentions that Blaine reminds her of Finn, which brings them to reminiscing about him for an entire hour.  Blaine works to comfort all of them through lame jokes and Oliver sits there like a lump on a log, awkward and entirely the opposite of passionate in helping fix his boyfriend.  Blaine can’t possibly figure out why this kid is here.

Presents big and little are finally exchanged: an Italian countryside vacation from Blaine to Burt and Carole, an open “best friends” vacation to anywhere in the world funded by Blaine for him and Kurt, a new “going out” outfit specially designed by Kurt for Blaine.  Kurt gets a new iPad cover and a key from Oliver and, in return, Oliver gets a glimpse of him running away yet again.

The silence is deafening as Burt, Carole, Oliver, and Blaine watch Kurt’s shadow disappear up the stairs.  

“Uhh, what’s in the box?”  Blaine fists a piece of wrapping paper in an effort to distract himself with something, anything.

“Um, a key to my apartment.”

“Oh.  Shit.”

“Blaine, sweetie?  Would you go check on him?  He’ll refuse to talk to any of us about this.”  

“Yeah, yeah.  Of course.  I’ll um, yeah.”  He gets up and swallows the lump in his throat.  He’s not entirely sure what to say, seeing as Kurt’s never not wanted to move forward in the relationship he once had with him.  Blaine can’t relate.  

He climbs the stairs slowly and lightly knocks three times on the door.  He peaks in with only the top of his head.  “I come in peace.  Only me.”

Kurt sits up and crosses his legs on the edge of the bed; he watches Blaine approach him and sit as well, also crossing his legs so their knees touch.  “I can’t move in with him.”

“He went about it in a completely wrong way.  Does it scare you that you don’t want to?”  

“That’s confirming that we’re serious.  And we’re not.  We’re barely together.”

“You know, Kurt.  On the outside, it’s kinda obvious you’re together.  You brought him home to your family for Christmas.”

“I didn’t invite him!  He only came because he knew you would be here.”  Kurt sucks in a breath as Blaine puts his hands on Kurt’s thighs; they’re serving as anchors by point of contact now.  “I need to call it off with him.”

“I’m just going to agree with you here and say nothing more.”

“After my birthday.”

“Whenever you feel it’s necessary.”

“After the threesome.”

Blaine laughs.  “Baby, I’m not pushing you to have sex with me and your boyfriend, okay?”  He wipes a tear from Kurt’s face before lips capture it.  “It might be fun and daring and… different than what we’re used to, but you don’t have to do anything like that just to prove a point to me.  I already know where your heart lies, and honestly?  If anything needed to be proven, it was last night and this morning.”

“I don’t know why I ever thought I might be fine without you.”

“I don’t care about the past.  I’m here with you now and I will do whatever you need me to do, okay?”

Kurt nods.  “Do you remember a while back you were trying to figure out if you should go see Christian in the hospital?  I said that I work well with situations that offer me some closure?  I think sex would be a good form of closure with him, but I want you there because it’s like… I’m taking myself back from him and giving all of me to you.  Is that disgustingly cheesy?”

“So disgusting.  I’m repulsed and I might puke all over you right now.”  It’s not said with bite; the grin plastered on Blaine’s face shows that it’s a tease.  “I love you.  Even the cheese.”

“I’m going to make us better.  I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Understandable reasons, babe.  But when I give you a house key in a box, you better fucking start packing.”

“Can I have the key to the condo back?”

“Of course you can.  God, Kurt that makes me so happy.”  Blaine attacks him by way of forceful hug, an unspoken promise to never let go.

“I’m never letting you leave ever again, Anderson.  So don’t plan on it.”

“I don’t ever want to.”

**xK &Bx**

A calmer Kurt and a puffy-chested, proud Blaine enter the living room again.  This time, they’re hand-in-hand without a care in the world of who sees.  They’re tangled and close at every joint up through their shoulders.

At Burt’s frown, Blaine immediately retreats to an entirely different side of the living room and Kurt gingerly sits, not too close, next to Oliver just in time for the movie they’ve already cued up to start.  Oliver kisses Kurt’s temple and pulls him into his arms.

“I’m sorry I freaked you out, Kurt.”

“You didn’t.  It was just inappropriate in front of my family.  We’ll talk about it later.”

The opening credits begin, and all Blaine can do is watch the reflection off of Kurt’s eyes pointedly concentrating, too hard, on the movie and not enough on his boyfriend.  He can’t help but stare at his mannerisms and fidgets until Carole kicks him playfully, successfully snapping him out of it.  Carole and Burt whisper to each other and they get up to do dishes in the kitchen.  Suddenly, Blaine is trapped with Kurt and Oliver and it’s all he can do to make this tolerable.  

He switches positions, and puts his head in Kurt’s lap.  Blaine looks up at him with shining eyes, obviously begging Kurt to play with his hair.  When Kurt’s hand races to Blaine’s scalp, Blaine grins and shifts again until it’s comfortable enough to watch the television screen.  The buzz in his pocket matches the one next to his ear in Kurt’s pants.  They both dig until they’re holding their phones; ignoring Oliver is almost too easy.

_Santana:  Merry Christmas, guys!_   
_Santana: In celebration of Kurt’s 76th birthday, we are showing these out-of-towners Scandals tomorrow night._   
_Santana: Dress smart and everyone thank Blaine for keeping the drinks flowing!_

“No, please no.”  Kurt groans.  “Blaine, shut it down.”

“No way José, we’re going.”

**Kurt:  San, we’d love to, and thank you for the invitation but… no.  Really, you guys don’t have to do that.  Why don’t you and Willa come over for dinner and we’ll… cook.**   
_Santana:  Live a little before the walker, Humz._   
**_Blaine:  I didn’t agree to this, but I’m agreeing to it now.  Let’s get drunk!_ **

“Blaine!  What the hell are you doing?”

Blaine sits up and rolls his eyes.  “Oh come on, it’ll be fun.  We’ve never gone to a gay bar together, have we?”

**Kurt:  I’m not going.  Good luck celebrating a birthday with someone who’s not even there.**   
_Santana:  This is my way of accepting your apology, Blanderson._   
**_Blaine:  I’m sorry.  I love you, Striptease._ **   
**_Blaine:  You’re going, Hummel._ **

“You’re going.”

“I’m not.”

**Kurt:  Can’t we do something a little more mid-thirties?  Do we have to get sloshed like we’re Blaine’s age?**   
_Santana:  Yes._   
**_Blaine:  Yes._ **   
**_Blaine:  Tell your boyfriend we’re getting drunk in celebration of you, pretty._ **

“You tell him.  You’re right next to him.”

“Tell me what?”  Oliver is observing every move, but he remains ignored.

Blaine laughs out loud and looks up again at Kurt.  “Kurt, we’ve never actually been drunk together.”

“Mmmm, sure we have.”

“On something harder than a sophisticated Cabernet from the depths of the Napa Valley, old man.”  He rolls his eyes and gets up so he’s sitting.  “Just because you’re in your 60s does not mean I am.  Keep up, I’m almost in my mid-twenties!  I am going to get you so drunk on hard liquor.”

Blaine does not miss Oliver’s cringe.

“Blaine?”  Kurt scoots closer to him.

“Hmm?”

“I hate you and also shut up.”  He turns to Oliver.  “We’re apparently going out tomorrow, Oli.  For my 76th birthday.”

Blaine watches Oliver’s face fall.

“I thought you said it’d be a quiet night in.”

Blaine bites his lip and takes the couple’s empty plates from the coffee table in front of them.  “I’m going to bed, you guys.  Rest up for the club, you know?”  He pads behind the couch and kisses the top of Kurt’s head and proceeds into the kitchen.  He puts the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, kisses Carole’s cheek, and makes it upstairs for some alone time.  

As he showers, Blaine still can’t stop thinking about the threesome that’s floating just out of reach since Kurt’s mentioned it, and it doesn’t seem fair that Kurt’s now into something so… public to share with them when the details of their sex life are to remain sacred.  He knows that he seems to be totally fine with it on the surface, but he finds that he’s actually really nervous.  Blaine thought that they always kept the special moments held safely in their hearts, and now all they want to do is fuck in front of another person.  It’s not them; it’s a disgusting turn of events.  He knows he doesn’t have to do it but it goes back to making sure Kurt is satisfied, and for that he’d do anything.

He needs to make real plans and not, under any circumstance, chicken out.

He ties his towel around his hips and can only get started on figuring out pajamas when there’s a knock on the bedroom door.  He pulls it open as he’s inserting his arms into a plain, white tee shirt and smiles when it’s Kurt.  Of course it’s Kurt.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Kurt sighs.  “Mmm.”  He walks into Finn’s old room and twirls back to look at Blaine.  “Blaine.”

Blaine preens, straightens his back, and runs his hand through damp curls.  “You know, Kurt.  If you keep disappearing when I disappear, people are going to start talking.”  

“Mmmm… I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I’m doing here.”  He sits on the corner of the bed.  

“Uh huh…”

He seems to come to an epiphany.  “Just to say goodnight.  I came in here to say goodnight.”  He stands and paces across the bedroom; only a few strides are enough to let Blaine into his head.  He’s conflicted; he’s torn.  He’s stuck in the middle of a situation he put himself into and he’s not sure how to get out alive.  

Blaine knows that in order to keep Kurt happy, he must make this easy.  As much as he wants to grab his face and bring him over the edge several times tonight, Blaine only pecks his lips against Kurt’s and says, “Goodnight, pretty.  I love you.”  Kurt smiles at him and slips back into the hallway.  It’s funny how something as small as a sliver of hope, a microscopic piece of faith growing on a Petri dish, can keep Blaine’s positive thoughts intact.  He sleeps easily; slumber takes him under fast and strong.  It’ll all be fine.

**xK &Bx**

He wakes of a nightmare, a faceless monster chasing after Kurt and Kurt running far away completely out of Blaine’s reach. Blaine lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, impatiently waiting for sleep to take him again to no avail.  Eventually, he throws on the same sweatshirt from this morning and pads down the stairs with his hands clasped in the kangaroo pocket.  He’s become a tea person at night, so he digs through until he finds Carole’s supply.

He stares at the teakettle with the help of only a distant light from the hallway and he waits.  He doesn’t think of anything, for the first time, only the good of his boiling water.  He glances at the clock and sighs when he realizes it’s four in the morning and he has yet to get any rest.  He shifts a bit to lean over the counter and folds his hands to support his chin against the granite.  He misses the life he had with Kurt and he hopes that it all resolves itself soon; it’s all he’ll ever want.

He wipes furiously at his face, willing himself not to let his eyes leak.  Whatever he does, he can’t cry anymore.  He’s been a weak little boy for so many years without Kurt, cutting himself down to size and thoroughly believing he can’t live up to his potential because that’s exactly what his family always told him.  Now, he’s determined to forget about his father, get Kurt back, and move on with the life he’s supposed to lead.

Contrary to his constant inner monologue of _don’t cry asshole_ , he sobs to the point of not being able to catch his breath.  He slouches further into himself over the freezing cold granite of the countertop and shakes horrendously through all of the emotions he’s unable and virtually unwilling to bottle up anymore.  It hasn’t been easy being Blaine these past few years, and he only allows himself to truly break down when he’s utterly alone.

The brighter light in the kitchen flicks on.

“Blaine?”

Blaine stands up straight and wipes again at his eyes, brushing a man-made pond off his cheekbones, laughing bitterly only because he is caught.  He turns and tilts his head but buries himself as much as he can when he sees who it is.

“Do you want me to get Kurt?”

Blaine looks at Oliver and shakes his head.  “I’m fine.  What are you doing up?”

“Can’t sleep.”  Oliver sits at the table.  “Kurt.”  He adds with a shrug.

The irony of them both awake because of the games Kurt’s putting them through seeps into Blaine’s skin like a mosquito bite.  He huffs.  

“How did you ever move on after him?”

“You’ll figure it out.  Are you breaking up with him?”  The teakettle starts to chime; he’s literally saved by the bell.  “Do you want tea?”

“Sure.”

Blaine gets another cup and teabag down from the cupboard and pours hot water into both.  He puts one in front of Oliver at the table and slides the sugar and milk over to him.

They silently sip their tea, Blaine having a full conversation with Oliver but only in his head.  He sits up straighter when Oliver starts to talk.

“He’s run away from me twice, now.  Personally, I think he has someone else entirely on his mind every time I ask him to take a big step with me.”

Blaine takes a sip of his tea.  It’s entirely too hot and he burns his tongue.

“It feels like when he fools around with me, he’s cheating on _you_.”

Blaine sighs and stares at his tea.  He swirls it around with his spoon and watches the whirlpool he’s created in a coffee mug.  “I don’t know what to say to you, Oliver.  Things between me and Kurt have always been so…  all or nothing, I guess.  It’s natural for us to act the way we do when we see each other again.”

“Can I share something with you?  Can I trust that you won’t tell him this?”

Blaine nods.

“I overheard you talking the other night.  You really do love each other.  I’d be stupid to hold him away from that.”  Oliver studies Blaine; Blaine lets him.  “This threesome is like closure for me.”

“Jesus.”  Blaine gulps down the rest of his tea and slams his mug down.  Oliver does the same and retreats quietly upstairs.  He swallows and puts the mugs in the sink, rinsing them out but unfocused on all steps it takes to do such a chore.  He sits back down at the table and stares at the clock on the wall until it’s five.  When he hears someone new padding down the stairs, he knows it’s Kurt.  He still wakes up early sometimes because of the schedule he has with the coffee shops, and although Blaine didn’t stay up specifically to wait for Kurt, he knew that his sleeping schedule was still a bit off.  Blaine turns his head slowly as he hears footsteps down the hall and then eventually into the kitchen.

“Hey, Kurt.”

Kurt must jump ten feet.  “Shit!  Oh, Blaine!  What are you doing up?”

Blaine shrugs and stands.  He approaches Kurt wearily with a sad, half-smile on his face.  

Kurt opens his arms, fitting him to lean thickly on his chest.  Kurt’s shirt is soaking from tears within seconds as he sways them back and forth for what Blaine is convinced is a half-ass attempt to comfort.  Time stands still until Blaine can catch his breath and figure out a way to speak.

“Kurt.”

“Mmhmm?”

“I know I say it like it’s nothing, but I really, really love you so much.” 

“Mmmm, I know you do honey.  I love you too.  Sometimes words aren’t enough to show you how much, but I promise I do too.”

Blaine sucks in all of the air he can hold on the insides of his cheeks and looks back up at Kurt.

Kurt squeezes him tighter and kisses his hair.  “Always saving me, baby boyfriend.”

“That’s my line, and I’m not your boyfriend, Hummel.”

“We’ll see about that… Anderson.”  

“We will, won’t we?”

“Are you okay?  You break my heart all over again crying like that.”

“I’m fine, pretty boy.”  Blaine steps away and nods, mostly to himself.  “Sorry.”

“Come on.”  Kurt seems to make a decision quickly and takes his hand, tangling their fingers together, leading Blaine back upstairs and straight into their once-shared bedroom.

Blaine smiles.  “I don’t want to get you in trouble with Oliver.”

“Okay, Blaine.”  Kurt deadpans.  “If you could run any faster with those hobbit legs of yours, you’d be banging down his door just to let him know you’re gonna sleep with me in my bed right now.”  There’s a beat.  “For the second night in a row.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”  Blaine bows his head and blushes, hiding a grin in his chin.  “We had a weird conversation earlier, me and him.”

“Uhhhh, really?”  He climbs into his bed and uncovers his legs as an invitation for Blaine to join him.  

Blaine plops down and slouches in close to Kurt’s body and rests his head on a pearly, pale chest.  “Goodnight, pretty.”

Kurt laughs.  “You’re not going to tell me anything he said, are you?”  Kurt brushes his lips against Blaine’s and smiles.  Blaine smiles back, because of all the tiny moments they’ve managed to share on this trip so far, that was just the one that meant the most.

“Not a chance.  Maybe when he’s outta here for good.”

“So you know how we started saying ‘I love you’ again pretty much right when we got back in touch?”

“Mmhmm?”  Blaine scrambles in closer to cuddle.  “Does that bother you now or something?  I mean it when I say it, I swear.”

“No!  No, of course not.  I just wanted to tell you that not only do I love you, but I’m _in_ love with you, Blaine Anderson, and I’m not sure if I ever was not in love with you in all the time we didn’t talk and didn’t see each other.  All the time we spent apart these past few years and I’m _still_ hopelessly in love with you.  Only you.”

“Well.  That’s really good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic, you little fuck.”

Blaine laughs and kisses his forehead.  “No, I’m not being sarcastic.  I’m saying that it’s really good because that feeling is so much better when the feeling is mutual.”

Blaine leans in and captures Kurt’s mouth, cradling the back of his head, and slots his knee between Kurt’s knees.  He breaks away as quickly as it happens and he promptly turns his back to Kurt.  “I call little spoon.  Happy Birthday, baby.”

**xK &Bx**

Kurt remains awake for several hours.  He’d toss and turn if Blaine didn’t plaster his body with sweat and overall connection, but he doesn’t mind.  His Blaine is beautiful, especially when unconscious, as it’s the only time he is willing to take a compliment and Kurt openly revels in the chance Blaine’s given him to stare.  In his sleep, Blaine snuggles his hair deeper into Kurt’s shoulder and all he can do is sigh in bliss of warmth resonating off of Blaine.  He feels comfortable, safe, sewn together.  He feels complete.  

It’s Kurt’s birthday, and he should want to spend it with his boyfriend.  Instead, a boy he dated prior is wrapped in his arms and snoring soundly; there’s no one else he wants to be cuddling with in this moment.  He shifts his eyes to stare again at Blaine, deep in sleep and bottling up the rest he’s lost because of Kurt’s Christmas guest.  Blaine’s eyelids sputter as though he’s dreaming, probably a vivid scene hammered between the wrinkles of his brain about how Kurt will always be immune to danger, covered and secured in Blaine’s protection. 

Blaine’s lips twitch and he tightens his grasp on Kurt’s hands resting at his hip.  He’s smiling; Kurt notices that it’s a happy dream, and God.  Blaine is beautiful when he’s happy.

Kurt decides right here and now that he’s going to spend the rest of his life making sure he witnesses the earth-shattering smile he’s seeing now and ensuring creative ways to make it stay plastered right there where it belongs.

**xK &Bx**

Blaine rushes down the stairs and halts in the foyer to check, not for the last time ever, the way his hair falls with the help of a new bottle of gel he’s trying out.  He wraps a single curl around his finger and pulls it until it springs back up and nods and winks at himself in the mirror.  He brushes the back of his knuckles across his jaw line, once covered with a thick beard.  He shaved, if only to make himself look younger for the sake of the club.

Kurt waltzes through the kitchen and into the foyer for the sake of finding his coat hung near the door.  “Whoa-ho-ho!  Blaine Anderson!  You are a tiny, little sex god.  God, you look exactly the same as when you were seventeen.  Blast from the past!”

“Mmhmm, I’m on the prowl tonight.”  Blaine bites his lip and makes eye contact with Kurt in the mirror.  He turns around.  “I’m really not on the prowl.  Not really.”  He laughs.  “I promise.  Hey!  Not looking so bad yourself, but that is to be expected, birthday boy.”  Openly scanning Kurt’s body with his eyes, Blaine whispers, “Pretty boy.”

“Blaine, seriously.”  Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck as if that’s the only place they belong.  “We are the most obvious people in love who aren’t currently together, I’m surprised we haven’t been called out.”

“Mmm.”  He kisses Kurt quickly, escaping his hold, and turns back to the mirror.  He sees to it that he’s fiddling with each individual curl that frames his face.  “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you.”  Kurt smiles.

“Oliver kind of called us out during that conversation in the middle of the night.  He caught me crying.”

“What?  Blaine, these are things you’re supposed to tell me immediately!”

“He asked me not to.”

Kurt laughs.  “Blaine.  Think about what you just said.  Oliver asked you not to tell me something.  And you complied.”  

Blaine looks at him with a raised eyebrow.  “Uh huh.”

“Blaine.”

Blaine tilts his head.  “Don’t worry.  He didn’t say anything bad.”  Blaine sighs and straightens.  “I can see why he was interesting to you.  In the beginning.  Before I came back.”

Kurt stares at him and laughs.  “I’m so impressed with your adult-like behavior.” Kurt grins.  “Come on, we should go.  Let’s go, Oli!”  Kurt tosses the car keys to Blaine and holds the door open as Oliver heads out, followed smugly by Blaine twirling the keys around his pinkie finger, checking his hair again on the way out.  

When Blaine jumps into the driver’s seat, Oliver immediately resorts to the passenger’s seat and smiles at Blaine.  Kurt blinks and takes the back seat and Oliver shifts into playing with the radio as soon as Blaine makes his way down the street out of their neighborhood.  Blaine looks at Kurt in the mirror as Oliver goes through possible music choices.  At Kurt rolling his eyes dramatically, Blaine yanks the phone from Oliver and scrolls through until he finds the exact song that they should listen to as they roll deeper into Lima Heights to pick up Santana and Willa.

_Let the moon do what she does_   
_She don’t need to make a fuss_   
_She don’t know she shines for us_   
_Something tells me that she does_   
_Follow the signs right back to you_   
_Back to you, back to you_

Blaine rocks out to the song twice in a row as the girls climb in and he speeds off into the abyss of the highway.  There’s laughter as there usually is between friends, and there’s singing at the top of their lungs and there’s Blaine’s obnoxious giggling when he realizes a point that’s so important, he shuts the song off completely and screams.

“You guys!”

Blank stares welcome him from every angle, causing him to laugh again.  He’s forcing himself into a happy mood – anything to stop him from thinking he’s the only one not good enough for a _public_ significant other.  

“Guys.  This is literally the gayest car… ever.”

He looks at Kurt first for a reaction and laughs harder when he just hangs his head and shakes it, trying desperately to hide a smile.  “Come on, pretty.  It’s funny!”

“Shut the fuck up and turn on the music, Anderballs!”  Santana slaps the back of his head.

Blaine maintains his mood as he retreats from the car and onto the ground and waits for his newly acclimated group of friends.  He fishes out his ID from his back pocket as he leads the way.  He recognizes that maybe he’s being a little obnoxious, but if he tries to do anything else, he’ll burst at the seams and spiral down into the red parade of slitting his veins open.  Oliver’s sort of a nice guy and he almost feels bad that he noticed that his boyfriend is still in love with Blaine.  This couldn’t be messier if he tried.

A warm hand slips into his and he’s shocked.  He looks over to Willa and smiles with apprehension at her bold contact.  

“I know we don’t know each other well, but… hang in there, okay?”

Blaine narrows his eyes at Willa.  She’s a cute girl, blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a ski-slope nose with a stud piercing.  Unquestionably the polar opposite of Santana Lopez, Blaine’s positive that they’re going to make it a long time if her sweet and calm demeanor means anything to the good of the world anymore.  

“Do you mean… with Kurt?  We’re um... huh.”  He squints.  “Tell me everything you know.”  He says it with a teasing flair, but he wholeheartedly means it.

Willa looks at Blaine then to Kurt, who’s cautiously watching their conversation but out of earshot.  “Well, I’ve only known him for a few months, and I’ve only known you a few days… but I’ve made some unbiased, outside opinions.  Assumptions.  Buy me a drink, lover boy, and I’ll lay down the way I see it.”

“I think I love you already.  Santana!  I’m stealing Willa.  She’s mine.”

Santana rolls her eyes and holds up her hand, already connected to Kurt’s.  “Even trade.”  

They share a smile while they watch Santana catch up and take Willa’s other hand, and they head straight to the bar like the three musketeers after a very important mission.

The three of them sit at the bar in a triangle of high top chairs, as Blaine and Willa become quick best friends.  Santana watches with a smirk on her face and folded arms as they talk about what Kurt is like in New York with and then without Oliver following him around like a lost puppy.  Blaine confesses that Oliver caught him last night when he was clearly distressed about the entire situation, and the conversation they had seemed like a revelation on Oliver’s part, although Blaine was sure to hold back a few words and a reserved demeanor.  He confesses that he was relieved that the in-love look was never just between Kurt and Blaine.  Outsiders, even Kurt’s boyfriend, could see it clear as day.  

“Honey, anyone with eyes can see it.”  Willa tips her glass to dry the contents and makes eye contact with the bartender for another margarita.  

“Every living creature has eyes, Willa.  A decent percentage of them are blind.”  He’s just being silly; it’s a sad excuse to try to change the subject altogether.

“Whatever you say, Blaine.  You know everyone can see it.”

Blaine turns his head to look at Santana and nods quietly.  “I know.  So why can’t he?  I mean, I guess he can but it’s not good enough to dump the boyfriend.”  He brings his glass up to his lips and licks at the bitterness kept around the rim.  “From where I’m standing, it looks like Kurt prefers the easy kind of love that requires no effort.”

“Anderson, that’s not love.  That’s a placeholder until he’s ready for you again.”  Santana leans in and tries to meet his eyes with her hands resting on his thighs.  He can’t look at her; he can’t look at anyone.  “Blaine.  You get the happy ending with him.  He told me so himself.”

“Well, I’d appreciate if we could get started on it again then.  I know him well enough to know that he yearns for that devastating, mind-blowing relationship that’s full of passion and need.  He wants to want until it fucks him up and ruins his life and shatters his heart, San.  He wants what I have with him.”

“You two weren’t always like that.”

“No, maybe not.  But I love him until it hurts and I know it’s the same for him.  It’s the evolution of our relationship and it’s insane that we want it.  But we do.  We need it.  It’s like water; it’s like air.  I _need_ him…” His voice breaks.  “Santana.  I _need_ him.”

When Santana and Willa are staring back at him with tears in their eyes, he knows the end of the conversation is near.  With a new glimmer of hope that’s coming from a place of fate and a promise to himself that he will never break Kurt in two again, Blaine drains his drink and slams the glass on the bar.

The song changes and he turns to watch Kurt on the dance floor because he can’t seem to look away for very long.  He’s ecstatic that they are finally how they’re supposed to be, although not for anyone to see, and that they are on their way to being perfectly together again.  They’re on the cusp of something truly special for the second time in their lives, and Blaine is so grateful.  

Kurt seems to be into all the dancing with Oliver, or at least as much as is necessary as Oliver sloppily grinds up against him, hands attached to the curve of his hips and his mouth attached to his neck.  Kurt locks eyes with Blaine and turns Oliver so that he is facing Blaine’s smirk.  They lock lines of vision.  Blaine feels a clench in his stomach, the painful _I can’t be with you the way I need_ kind, the warm beginnings of full-on sexual arousal, and he nearly doubles over in want.  The piece of thread has been sewn back in place between two hearts; it jolts with the precise amount of tension, the give and take finally compromising to meet in the middle of two men who simply belong together forever.

Santana and Willa shimmy over to Kurt and Oliver whereas Blaine remains seated and, swirling his Jack and Coke with the straw, plotting his next move to get Kurt back.  This time, he wants to avoid the casualty of Oliver Ellington and that’s proven to be difficult.

Sexual tension swirls comfortably in the room, supplied only by Kurt and Blaine, and they’re both openly using Oliver as the puppet in the prop room, dusty and swaying on the wood paneling of a makeshift shelf turned into a shady, dark corner of the dance floor.  The only thing that matters is that Kurt is to soon be back in his arms again.

From a considerable distance, Blaine opens his mouth and sings the lyrics directly into Kurt’s soul; the words of the song shooting through his heart like a bullet he’ll never be able to run away from – a bullet he’d willingly take for the electricity of it, for the ultimate commitment it would represent.  His stomach molds into a messy loop-de-loop roller coaster with a record-breaking drop and he officially feels like he’s going to puke.

_High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life_   
_Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time_

Blaine seductively stalks to Kurt, the only focused piece of flesh in the building, until he’s inches away from his face and pushes Oliver away with only one hand like a scarecrow swaying in a tornado. Blaine slots up behind Kurt and closes his teeth down on the left column of Kurt’s neck, with an obvious purpose to make him his again.  He rasps the most important lines into the shell of Kurt’s ear, nipping at it when he should breathe.

_Hold still right before we crash, ’cause we both know how this ends_   
_A clock ticks ’til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again._

He doesn’t hear Kurt’s breath hitch; he feels it against his cock as the two are glued together, closer than they’ve been in a long time, at least for people to see.  It’s coming home; it’s fitting into the empty space where he’s belonged; it’s the entire place finally accepting that they are everything for one another.  It’s showing his lover off, the most beautiful man at Scandals, in Ohio, in the world.  Somehow, Blaine knows that everything is going to be just fine.  

The song ends just this side of completely inappropriate in a public place and Blaine steps back immediately, pinching his lips closed between his pointer finger and thumb, and clasping his eyes, sealing them as tightly as possible.

The feel of Kurt’s hand on his forearm forces his eyes to open.  Their world around them is still blurry, a slow-motion version of the club they’re standing in.  They hold still but in perfect focus, literally drowning in each other, eyes fixed on the other, hazel gold competing for dominance with the Caribbean Sea.  

Kurt’s worth it every time.  

The air changes as the mood switches into an equally fast beat song and the lyrics start right away this time, with a song no one has heard in _years_.

_We are strong_   
_No one can tell us we’re wrong_   
_Searching our hearts for so long_   
_Both of us knowing_   
_Love is a battlefield_

“We can’t make Oliver feel left out, B.”

Blaine steps back two more strides and takes Oliver’s hand, tangling their fingers until he’s joined into somewhat of a dance/love-triangle as the next verse comes in, vibrating their insides, and Blaine feels himself floating above the two drinks he’s had so far, with every intention of getting totally hammered right after this song.  He crowds in on Oliver just in time, growling in his ear but looking at Kurt.

_But if we get much closer, I could lose control_   
_And if your heart surrenders, you’ll need me to hold._

Blaine yanks at the back of Oliver’s neck and brings his face in roughly.  He smashes his tongue into Oliver’s mouth, hoping to God that he looks like a porn star as much as he feels like one in this moment.  The kiss is hard and sloppy and just left of center, but almost nice because he can taste Kurt on Oliver’s lips and it’s a sure way to feed his addiction. 

It obviously takes a minute for Oliver to grasp what’s happening, but when he does his hands travel south to slip into Blaine’s back pockets, pinching at each cheek, and slotting his knee in between Blaine’s legs.  It seems easy for Oliver; he has such a height advantage that he props Blaine up onto his thigh as they break away from the dirty kiss as Kurt looks on as though this night will quickly become a blur of hot sweat and sex any second now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The aftermath of Scandals is not nearly as great as it was in the moment.  Three sets of limbs are tangled and splayed in whichever direction they landed eight hours ago and that startles Blaine more than anything else when he blinks his eyes open.  He is being especially mindful of the sunlight from between the curtains dripping in as he shifts on the mattress to figure out where exactly he is.  When he can finally focus, he realizes he’s inches away from kissing Oliver’s nose and immediately scurries out and over the two bodies until he’s clear across the room.

Blaine giggles at Kurt being so maintained and responsible, even after finishing off an entire bottle of tequila by himself, having had called a cab and sending the three of them back to the apartment over the coffee shop.  The only downfall is that there are no hangover supplies in this apartment, so he quietly leaves the bedroom after kissing Kurt’s forehead and brushes his teeth before venturing downstairs to the coffee shop.  

The jingle of the bell ribbon pounds directly into his brain cells, but he pushes through the pain for the sake of caffeine and the little single-serve packets of Advil he knows about in the back.  There are a few customers in the shop but none in line, and the attractive teenage boy standing at the cash register surprises Blaine.  He smiles at him and proceeds behind the counter without a word.

“Excuse me, sir.  You can’t just-”

“I’m family.  Where’s Jules?”  Blaine is embarrassed by how groggy his voice sounds, a clear indication that his alcohol intake was simply too much last night.  The celebration was within reason, however, with topics other than Kurt’s birthday.  Blaine is finally on his way up when it comes to Kurt, and if that doesn’t complete his world he’s not sure anything ever will again.

“Sir, I will call the cops.  You can’t be back here.”

“Hey.  No cops.  I’m family.  Julie!”

Julie marches out of the back room to Blaine pulling espresso shots, an aggravated employee to his side.  Blaine is bent completely over and searching through the refrigerator under the espresso machine.   “Is there no two percent milk?  Oh!”  He stands up straight when he finds it.  “Found it.”

“He’s okay, Ash.  This is Kurt’s Blaine he was telling you about last week.”

“Sorry.  I forget there are new kids here.”  He grins and winks at Julie then turns to the boy.  “I used to work here, now I sort of own the place with Kurt.”  Turning back to Julie, he continues.  “Wait, what did he say about me?”  

“Uhhhh, you _own_ the place?” Julie approaches and crosses her arms.  “What are you-”

“When Kurt and I get married, silly.  I’m working on getting rid of Oliver Twist up there and then I presume things will probably happen pretty quickly.”  He froths the milk and pours it delicately over the three cups of double espresso shots.  

Julie’s punching out her adorable giggle Blaine’s always admired.

“You’re not allowed to laugh at me, Jules!  Why are you laughing?”  He drizzles caramel sauce on one cup and tastes it for confirmation he’s still got the skills.  He does.

“He just said the same thing in so many words.  He told Jon and Ashton here that you’re their boss just as much as he and I are.  If you’re ever here.”

“Mmmhmm.  See?”  Blaine grins and takes that as a good sign as he connects the tops to the cups then proceeds to the bakery case to take an assortment of the carbiest carbs to have ever carbed the face of the earth.  “Okay, so six croissants and three lattes.  I’m gonna take bottles of water, too.  Do you still have Advil down here?  There is _nothing_ upstairs.”

Julie nods.  She does need to keep track of the entire inventory, whether it’s paid for or not.  She jogs to the back and gives him a handful of painkiller packets.

Blaine smiles and kisses her on the cheek after he shoves them in his pocket.  “You’re amazing, Jules.  If I don’t see you, have a great vacation.  We’ll handle this place for the next few days, I promise.”  He grabs his bag of breakfast and the tray of lattes, balances the water bottles vertically between the coffees, and heads back upstairs.

He enters the apartment again and can’t seem to help the flood of flashback slamming into his chest.  He puts their breakfast down on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, closing his eyes for a prolonged blink and allowing the feeling of low loss drown him just a little bit.  He’s barely submerged in it as his eyes, now open and aware, linger on the small details that are so _them_ , unaltered since the renovation after the attack.  He starts to feel the rush of blood in his ears, all the memories buried deep inside surfacing themselves quickly:  lazy Sundays dancing around each other with schoolwork and paperwork and homework and chores, attempting penne a la vodka in the kitchen and pouring the vodka over the pasta while the heat was still on thus causing a small fire and a subsequent emergency call for Thai food, making love on the couch and in the shower and on the wall and against the counter, bent over the coffee table, on the floor and in the bed but most importantly with each other, and hardly any fighting and just… love.  Simply being a unit of one here in this apartment and in New York with nothing to care for except each other.  He leans his head back again and closes his eyes, engulfing his body and soul into how it felt to have the love of his life belong to only him for an undetermined period in time.  Now, he’s forced to share and Kurt’s final push between Oliver’s shoulder blades to send him off the cliff can’t come soon enough.  

He can faintly hear Kurt’s giggle from the bedroom, so he strains himself to listen for details.  Unable to truly point out his actual goal in this situation, Blaine grabs the breakfast again and retreats to the bedroom, shyly knocking twice on the door.  He attempts to swing it open with his elbow, but it’s locked.  He can only assume what could be happening behind a locked door with Kurt and his boyfriend, so he doesn’t wait to find out for sure.  He takes his cup of coffee and a croissant out of the bag and retreats back downstairs and into the Lima Bean, beelining straight to his table by the pole.  He waits it out, staring out the window and watching the light snow fall gently onto the world in front of him.  He tries his hardest not to feel ignored, slighted, and lonely but it’s all so much easier said than done.  

**xK &Bx**

Kurt blinks his eyes open, halting to sit up in surprise.  “Shit, oww.”

“You had at least six margaritas.  Terrible for a hangover.”  Oliver mumbles into his pillow and turns over.  He looks and smells like Hell.

“Where’s Blaine?”  Kurt looks down at Oliver then around the room as though Blaine will pop out and surprise them.

“Don’t know.  Did he even come back here with us?”

“Of course he did.  He was just here an hour ago; I felt him.  Oh shit.”  Kurt launches himself off the bed and runs to the bathroom where he proceeds to let go of anything he’s eaten for the past few days.  He’s decided that he’ll never drink again, he swears.

While Kurt is preoccupied with puking his guts out, Oliver takes it amongst himself to lock the door so Blaine can’t ruin whatever is to happen next. 

Kurt finishes up and brushes his teeth before returning to bed.  “Thanks for your help.  I’m fine.”

“If I see vomit, I vomit.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and turns his back on him, snuggling into the pillow he can smell Blaine on.  “It’s fine, whatever.”

“I never gave you your birthday present.”

“Later.  I want to sleep until he comes back.  He’s probably downstairs getting caffeine.”

“Kurt, let me suck you.”

“Seriously, Oli?  I’m not in the mood; I don’t feel good.  Get some rest.”

“You would let Blaine.”

Kurt turns over to face Oliver and slams his fist into the pillow.  He laughs, but it comes out bitterly and unappreciative.  “Get.  Some.  Rest.”

“Wouldn’t you let him?”

“Oliver stop.  Leave me alone, I really don’t feel good.”  Kurt gets out of bed and opens the door to get a glass of water he can bring back to bed.  He feels the lock pop in his palm and nearly trips over breakfast.  He picks it up from his feet and puts it on his desk.  “Advil!”  He opens a packet and shoves two pills down his throat, washing his mouth out with espresso.  “He’s a godsend.”  Kurt says it to no one but himself.  “Wait, where the hell is he?”

**xK &Bx**

Julie sits with Blaine to pass the time and keep his mind off of things.  He’s half there in the conversation with her and he knows she can tell his mind is some place else.  The shop’s phone in Julie’s hand comes to life and she answers it politely and professionally. 

“Good Morning!  Lima Bean on Main, Julie speaking.  How may I help you?”

It must be Kurt; Julie’s face lights up.  The best thing about Julie is that she adores both of them as much as they love her.

“Hey, babe.  What’s happening?  Are you upstairs?”

She waits while Kurt speaks, finding Blaine’s eyes and smiles.

“Yep.  Want to talk to him?”

Blaine shakes his head and hand to signal “no, no, no!” but Julie shoves the phone into his face anyway and he has no choice but to take it.  He sighs and lodges it between his ear and shoulder.

“Kurt?”

“I figured you were downstairs.  Come home?”

“Yeah, I was up there but then you guys started having sex or whatever so I came back down to escape.”

“We weren’t-”

“The door to the bedroom was locked, Kurt.  Don’t give me that shit.  Look, I should go.”

“Are you going to come back upstairs?”

“Yeah, maybe later.  You guys have fun.”  He hangs up before he says too much of the wrong thing and puts the phone down on the table.  Julie looks concerned; he’s sure she wishes she could fix it.  “It’s okay, Jules.  I just thought we were at a different spot, you know?  I’ll be fine.”

“Blaine, you disappeared for nearly two years the last time you said that.  Fight for him!  Show him you’re better.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, staring out the window at the impending snow.  The wind is picking up; it’s the period of time in the beginning of a snowfall where everything is beautiful before the plows come and make it ugly.  Blaine gets back up to make another coffee, just regular this time, and shifts back into his chair with his knees to his chest staring again at the world before him.  

“He knows I’m good for him.  He’s resisting me just like last time, but this time he’s giving in when I’m alone, which I think is fucking worse.  Like I’m this terrible backup plan that he’d rather not settle for.  I feel like I’m the other woman and that really fucking hurts when I love him the way I do, you know?”

“You’re not the other woman!  You could never be anything less than Kurt’s entire world, Blaine.  You’ll see.  It’ll all work out and everything will be just fine.”

“I think I’m gonna give up.  I’m not so sure it’s going to be worth it anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.  You two are… my only inspiration in ever finding a true love, Blaine.”

“And mine.”  

Blaine knows it’s Kurt behind him without having to turn around; he’d recognize the emotion threaded through his voice anywhere.  He turns around anyway as Julie gets up and disappears.  He watches Kurt sit down and fiddles with his own hands on the table.

“Please don’t give up on us.”  He reaches for Blaine’s hand.  “Can’t do this without you.”

Blaine tilts his head and laces his fingers with Kurt’s at his insistence.  “I can’t do this the way things are, Kurt.  I get that it’s super weird that your boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend are trying to… I should be stronger than letting you minimize me like this, like I’m this whore you keep around on the side.  Why do I put up with all of this?”

“Well, I’m hoping it’s because I love you and you love me and you can’t ever tell me that we were ever boring in our journey of being together.”

“Last night, I was telling Santana how I think you prefer an intense love that makes your heart ache, but you know what?  I want us to be fucking boring, Kurt!  Boring is good, boring doesn’t make me feel like I’m drowning.”  He takes a breath.  “Boring is stable.”

“We have at least sixty-five years to be boring, but for the record, B?  Whatever we are, whenever we are it?  We’re always stable.  I promise you that this is the last mountain of drama.  Okay?”

“You can’t promise that.  We’re going to argue, we’re going to hate each other sometimes.  I just need to know that the next time we fight and I want to leave, you’re going to stop me.”  His voice cracks.

“I have lived with that single day as a regret since you moved across the country.  There’s no way in Hell I’m ever letting you break my heart like that again.  You, in turn, have to make sure to talk to me when you have feelings like that again.  The communication, or lack thereof, could have saved us from this whole mess.”

“I know, pretty.  I’m so sorry.”

“Hey.  You said it best… you had to mature a bit without me, right?  It all happened the way it was supposed to.”  Kurt straightens his back and squeezes Blaine’s hand.  “Now, I have a proposition for you.  Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, I do.  Of course I do.”

“Will you come upstairs and fuck me senseless?  In front of him?”

Blaine grins.  “Only if you promise we can kick him out after and ride away into the sunset together.”

“Already planning the break up speech.”

“And there’s a lot of other serious stuff to talk about.  Like the whole… long distance relationship thing, and do we jump right into the level where we were before, or do we start from the beginning?”

“These are all things that can be managed post-mutual-orgasm.”

Blaine stands up and holds out his hand for Kurt.  They connect and start walking out and up the stairs.  “I just want to make sure we are doing it right this time.  We’re setting the foundation for a very heavy house to sit on top of it for the rest of our lives.”

“I understand that.  Let’s build a house, B.”

“A mansion made of love.”

“Cheesefest.”

“Don’t care.  I love you.”

“Show me _and Oliver_ just how much.”

They climb the last few stairs and Blaine moves his hands, fingers digging into each of Kurt’s hips, and he slams his back against the wall next to the door in the hallway.  He dominates the kiss and knocks on the door loudly so Oliver can open it and watch the show.  

“I wanna bottom, Kurt.  Please.”

Kurt nods and kisses him again as Oliver opens the door, wiping his mouth from evidently practicing some sort of hygiene in the form of brushing his teeth.  He speechlessly allows them both back into the apartment.  Blaine takes two hands belonging to different men and leads them down the hall and into the bedroom.

“What were you guys doing that needed a locked door this morning?”

“I was blowing him.”  Oliver closes the door to the bedroom and pounces on the bed.  “I’ll blow you.  Come here.”

“He didn’t succeed.  He was only trying to blow me.”  Kurt raises an eyebrow.

Blaine looks at Kurt and smiles. 

“Can we just… maybe let the painkillers kick in?  Can we relax for like forty-five minutes?”  Kurt pulls Blaine toward the bed by his wrist.

“Yeah.  Of course, there’s no rush to this, pretty.”  They snuggle in and cover each other with the blankets.  Oliver squeezes between Kurt and the wall, fighting to be involved.

A half-hour of tangling and re-tangling legs, whispers about how fun last night turned out, and comfortable silence preludes the following conversation; it’s something that Blaine only thinks he’s ready for but probably isn’t in reality.

“Do we have condoms?”

“We have several.”  Kurt puts his lips on Blaine’s and their brains short-circuit at anything else they should talk about before the sex.  

Kurt breaks the kiss, lifts his body over Blaine and digs some condoms and lube out of a drawer in the bathroom.  His pants are gloriously unzipped but still up against his waist, but his sweater is removed and folded neatly over the desk chair.  He approaches them both and sits back on the bed closest to Blaine’s body.

“Mmmm.  So, I want to bottom.  I want Kurt to fuck me and I want to include you by way of blowjob.”  He removes his sweatshirt and tee shirt and digs his fingers into the inside of the elastic band around his boxer-briefs.  

He sees Kurt’s jaw drop as he stands up to remove his underwear, throwing them off to the side.

“Blaine.  Jesus.”

“So hot, Blaine.  Who knew all those muscles were underneath?”  Oliver shifts so he can crawl closer to Blaine, almost pushing Kurt off to the side.  He drops off the bed and onto his knees directly in front of Blaine.  

Kurt watches closely, like a hawk recently hired to be the lead security detail.

“I plan on giving you the best blowjob of your life.”  Oliver puts his fingers on Blaine’s skin.

Blaine’s eyes find Kurt’s immediately, and there’s just something not right about this situation.  Kurt looks away first, almost as if he is ashamed to have brought Blaine into this complication.  

As Oliver licks the tip of his cock, succeeding to bring it to life, Blaine watches as Kurt clearly goes through some sort of terrifying inner monologue, eventually working up to a pace and the sincere need to re-button his pants.  

Kurt scatters to his clothes, throwing them back on in record time.

“Um… guys, this really isn’t working for me.  I can’t watch my ex and my current…” Kurt rushes to the door and grabs the knob, pulling it open as graceless as ever.  “I can’t…” The emotion he tries to push away is overbearing and he has to get out of there quickly.  Looking off toward Oliver and then Blaine, both staring back at him, he whispers that he’s sorry, and disappears out into the snow of downtown Lima, Ohio.  

“Fuck!  I told him this was a bad idea.  Kurt, shit!  Wait.”  Blaine is tripping over putting his pants back on and then trying to get his complicated boots on so he can chase after him with little to no effort but he can feel him getting away.  “Do you know how much I hate you, Oliver?  He just wants to please the people in his life and he never thinks about himself.  How do you not get that after you’ve been with him for so long?  Fuck!”  He slams the door shut and slides down the stairs, fumbling with his phone to call Kurt.  When he doesn’t pick up twice in a row, Blaine continues outside, which is a ghost town with dangerous snowdrifts and wind.  The plows still haven’t come, but the banks on the sidewalks are building up and transforming the town into a winter wonderland.  Icicles and fluff make the tree branches bend, almost to the point of snapping, and Blaine realizes that he can’t see four feet in front of him in the thickness.  It looks like he’s trapped forever in a snow globe and, more than anything, Blaine’s worried that Kurt will try to walk the whole way home in this.  

Blaine slips and sprints the best he can toward the Hummel residence, looking desperately for any footprints in the snow as he runs against the wind, and when there are none, he decides that there’s no way he wouldn’t have caught up with him by now if he had even gone this way.  It’s been a good twenty minutes since Kurt stormed out, so Blaine tries to call him yet again, to no avail.  It goes straight to voicemail, so he turns around and tries to go the other way, toward the tire shop near Blaine’s old home.  “Fuck!”

He feels like a lost puppy, sweating and shivering at the same time as he makes his way back past the Lima Bean and walks in a different direction toward the other part of town.  It’s another half hour of his bones being positively chilled before he finally stomps into the garage and looks around frantically for Burt.

He spots him up in his office, overlooking the loud garage, concerned face with a phone hooked to his ear.  He hangs up and silently rubs his hands on the top of his bald head, placing his baseball cap back on.

Blaine knocks on the door after a minute, deeming it enough time to have Burt calmed.  Burt’s eyes shift and he motions with his hand that the door is open.

“Hey bud.  He’s not here, but he’s okay.”

Blaine nods and sits in the chair in front of Burt’s desk.  “We’re almost back together, I think.”

“He said the same thing a few weeks ago.  Nothing would make me happier, son.”

Blaine nods again, if only to will away the sharp tears pooling in his eyes.  “Can I go see him?  Where is he?”

“He told me not to tell Oliver.”

“Mmmm.  I’m not Oliver, Burt.”

“You can say that again, kid.  He’s visiting his mother and Finn.  The cemetery behind Lima Memorial.”

“I’ve never… in all my time I’ve known you guys, I’ve never gone there with him.”

“He only goes there when he really needs some time to think.  I don’t know what happened between him and Oliver to push him there, but I suggest you go save my boy, Blaine.”

“Yeah, always.  Can I borrow a car?”

Burt laughs.  “How you boys lost a BMW, I’ll never understand.”

“It’s still at Scandals.  We were counting on Oliver to not drink and then he proceeded to get sloshed because he’s a squirmy little fuck who can’t keep his promises.  We took a cab to the Lima Bean because _your son_ is the only person in the world who is capable of thinking in his right mind after a bottle of tequila.”  Blaine smiles; he’s ridiculously in love and there’s no use trying to hide it in front of Burt, a man who knows him very well.

“That’s my boy.  Go get ’em. And for the sake of both of you, be careful when you sneak up on him.  He tends to block out everything around him when he’s there.”  Burt hands him the keys to one of his tow trucks and pats his shoulder.

“You know I’m chasing him again, right?”

“I still love you for it, kid.  Go!”  
  
“Thanks.  We’ll check in later.”  Blaine runs to the truck and jumps in.  Speeding as much as he can in the snow, he finally can see the top of Kurt’s head ten minutes later as he pulls off to the side of the road and parks the tow truck.  His boots are ruined, socks bled through with the wet of the snow, but Blaine hardly cares at all.  He rushes down the covered path toward Kurt, blissfully unaware and staring down at a tombstone.  He doesn’t want to startle Kurt so he calls out his name from fifty feet away.  Kurt’s back straightens; he visibly squeezes into his body tighter.

Blaine takes a few more steps.  “Kurt.  Baby, it’s only me.”

He turns to face Blaine, wrecked eyes and tearstained cheeks.  Blaine swears he can see tiny icicles on the tips of Kurt’s eyelashes.  “You knew where to find me.”

“I’ve actually… I started on foot toward your house, went to the tire shop, and Dad pointed me in the right direction.  I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”

Kurt waves him off and turns back to the grave.  “You can finally meet Finn.”

“Mmhmm.”  Blaine stands next to Kurt and takes his hand. “Finn Hudson.  I’m Blaine Anderson.  I’m going to be your brother-in-law one day.”

Kurt laughs lightly.  “He knows that already.”

“His niece’s father?”

“Talked about that too.”

“Is there anything he doesn’t know about me?”  Blaine looks at Kurt and smiles. 

“I’ve never been able to explain the way I love you in the right way to him.  He wouldn’t understand and I don’t know how to… dumb it down.  Every time I try, words escape and I wind up just sobbing into my knees on the ground.”

“Well…” Blaine pulls Kurt down onto the ground in front of Finn’s grave.  He brushes off the stone so the engraved lettering is shown.  “We can just sit here for a while, but I do wanna meet your mom too.”

So they sit in pure quiet, minus the gusts of wind and the creepy howls in the distance.  At some point, Kurt crawls into Blaine’s lap and they’re utterly soaked and cold to the bone but content enough to be comforting each other in this capacity.  The silence to think is what they both need.

Kurt suddenly jumps up and pulls Blaine to stand.  Blaine can only obey and he’s led down the path, deeper into the rows of tombstones, all virtually identical to the others.  

“Mom hasn’t heard as much about you as Finn, because it’s kinda awkward to gush about your boyfriend to your mother.”

“Assuming we were boyfriends.”  Blaine tangles his fingers with Kurt’s and squeezes.  “I’m just kidding.”

“I don’t know how you do it.  You always make me feel better no matter what.  Even when we’re walking on a path conveniently located between two of my dead family members.”  Kurt hugs Blaine around the waist.  “You never cease to amaze me.  Thank you.”

“For as long as we live, you will never have to thank me for a single thing.  This is all what someone does when they love you the way you deserve to be loved, pretty boy.”

“Speaking of people undeserving… where did you leave Oliver?”

“Mmmm, the apartment.  I figured it was a central place and he’s a smart guy.  Surely, he can find his way to an airport in rural Ohio.”

Kurt stops walking and Blaine bumps into him without expectation.  

“Oww. What the fuck, Kurt?”

“Blaine Anderson, meet Elizabeth Hummel.  My mom.”

“Why am I always making a terrible first impression?  First Burt, and now I just said fuck in front of your mom!”

Kurt laughs.  “It’s just a thing you do.  Whatever, it’ll be a good wedding story.”

“Mmmm, I bet she was beautiful.  Burt always tells me how you take after her.  The way you love and care for people is a reflection from her… so I think it’s only necessary to thank you, Mrs. Hummel… for raising a boy who is both a joy and honor to love.  I hope our little…” He struggles to find the word.  “I hope our little _digression_ from one another for a little while didn’t disappoint you too much, because I plan on making it up to him, to all of you, for the rest of our lives together if he’ll let me.”

“I’ll let you.”

Blaine smiles.  “Kurt.”

“Mmmm?”

“It’s a really great thing that you didn’t take me here during the questionable bad boy phase.  At least we can say I wasn’t an asshole to both your parents the first time I met them.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Kurt flirts and turns his body so he’s connected all the way down Blaine’s side.  “Love you, B.”

“I love you, and you can guarantee I do because I’m about to suggest the craziest situation ever, like in the history of situations.”  There’s a beat; Kurt’s listening intently.  “You shouldn’t break up with Oliver yet.”

“Blaine, please.  That’s crazy, you’re crazy.”

“Go back to New York with him and have an adult conversation without me around.  Then come back to me as soon as you can.  We’ll figure out everything but not until you maturely get rid of the unnecessary rats nipping at your ankles.”

“You are more what I need now than you ever were years ago.  I can’t even believe… this version of you is your destiny.  Don’t you dare ever lose it.”

“I’m just trying to be someone you could turn to for advice about anything.  Even boyfriends.”

“This will be the last time I’m looking for advice about boyfriends, because after this one, I will have the most perfect one for the rest of my fucking life, Anderson.  You wait and see.”

“Let’s go home, babe.”  Blaine wipes off Elizabeth’s grave with his sleeve and smiles down at the ground.

Kurt nods.  “Love you, Mom.”

“Thanks again, Missus H.”

Kurt smiles as they latch onto each other’s hands and start walking up toward the tow truck.

“So… Anderson-Hummel or Hummel-Anderson?  Maybe we drop the Anderson altogether?”  Blaine opens the door for Kurt and watches him scurry inside with a smile as big as the Empire State flailing across his lips.

He needs to get home to San Francisco to get that ring.

**xK &Bx**

“I was so close to whoring you out to my boyfriend.”

“Babe, it’s okay.  I was there just as much as you were.  It’s okay.”

“Did my dad ask what was wrong?”

“No, he assumed it had to do with Oliver though and I didn’t correct him.  I can make myself scarce if that’s what you need.  I mean, it feels like you maybe can’t manage your time between catering to me and him.”

Kurt looks at him, really studying him so much so that Blaine feels like he’s under a microscope.  He becomes self-conscious, looking far away into another universe to avoid Kurt’s blatant stares.  “What?”

“I look at you, every time I look at you… Blaine, you break my heart.  This whole thing, all of this could have been avoided if we were just… better at it.  If we were better at being us, we would have been married or at least engaged by now.”  Kurt looks away. “We’ve wasted so much time.”

“You said we have so much time to be boring, pretty.  Remember?  We do.”  

“In the grand scheme of things, we really only get a few days.  I know that better than anyone, with Finn and my mom… I have wasted so much time with other people who don’t deserve even an ounce of my attention.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know yet.  I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Okay.  You do that and I’m gonna drive.”

Blaine pulls out of the cemetery and into traffic.  He drives through a few yellow lights before Kurt speaks again.

“I want to be with you.  I just have other stuff to take care of before I can give myself to you completely.”

“Uh huh.  I know.  I told you to deal with it and I’ll be here when you’re done.  But all within reason.”

“Within reason?”

“Yeah, Kurt.  You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.  I love you; I’ll never stop loving you.  There will be a time, though, that I stop trying to win you over.  I’m sorry, but this isn’t fair to me so there will come a time when I can’t anymore.  It’s not now, it’s probably not even soon.  Just know that the time will come eventually if you don’t act on this.”

**xK &Bx**

Blaine drives aimlessly in silence, most likely praying for the lack of Kurt’s inevitable panic attack.  Without any warning, he parks in Santana’s driveway and gets out of the truck.  He looks at Kurt through the windshield, clearly expecting him to join.  Something about what Blaine just said really makes Kurt think, possibly for the first time in a long time seriously.

He does join after a minute by himself.  Wherever Blaine goes, he’ll follow.

Kurt stares at the front door, paint chipped in all the right places to determine regular wear and tear.  He watches as Blaine knocks on the door with his right hand and squeezes Kurt’s with his left.  It’s a beautiful reminder that Kurt needs; Blaine is present and everything is fine.  Kurt knows that Blaine realizes he’s seconds away from a breakdown, so when Santana pulls the door open, they brush past quickly and quietly.

“Guys?  Is everything okay?  You’re soaked.”  Santana closes the door and turns to them.  “What’s up?”

Willa comes into the living room with cookie batter stuck to her hands.  “Hey buddies!  How’s the hangover?”

Santana raises an eyebrow and looks at them more closely.  “Where’s Olive Oil?”

“Can we crash here for a little bit?  Oliver’s at the apartment and Burt’s house is empty and if we go back there, we’d probably have sex and that is so not what anyone needs right now.  So can we hang out here for a while?”  

Kurt looks at Blaine as he rambles, who is clearly spooked, and tilts his head.  It’s all that he needs when Blaine goes into protection mode to ensure everything will be okay, and it’s something that Kurt appreciates immensely every time.  His lips twitch upward just enough for Blaine to see and light up the room with his own smile.  

“That’s okay, Kurt?  I mean, I didn’t ask you if you wanted to be with other people right now.  I just… figured.  This might be better than…” Blaine tries to catch Kurt’s eye and gives up when Kurt makes it impossible.

“No, no.  It’s fine.  I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”  Santana puts an arm around his shoulders and rubs at his upper arm.  “Even though you’re being a huge asshole by joshing Blainers around… Come in, I’ll make some hot cocoa and find you dry sweatpants or something.  Willa?”

“Santana.”  Kurt hears the warning in Blaine’s voice.

“On it.”  Willa disappears as Kurt can hear Blaine taking his shoes off behind him.

Kurt’s fucked everything up by lingering somewhere between Blaine and no Blaine.  He’s convinced of that much.

Willa comes back with sweatpants and two hoodies; she thrusts both pairs into Blaine’s hand and smiles at him warmly.  Kurt sees the whole exchange in his peripheral vision.  He tugs away from Santana’s grasp, turning to face them.  Blaine smiles, although it seems like there’s pity written all throughout his body.  

“Kurt.  Baby, let’s go get changed before you get sick.  Willa found some clothes and maybe if we’re nice to Striptease, we can even use her dryer.  What do you say?”

“When do you go back to school?”  Kurt threads his arm through Blaine’s elbow as Blaine turns and leads them down the hall and into Santana’s bedroom.

“I _have_ to be back by the nineteenth.”

“But when are you?  Going back?”

“You tell me, pretty.”

Kurt openly focuses on Blaine’s face.  He can’t bear to see Blaine go.  Not after this trip; this trip home has changed everything.  “Don’t ever leave me.  I’m so sorry, Blaine.  I choose you.  I choose you now, don’t give up.”

“Jesus, Kurt.”  

Kurt crashes his body into Blaine’s and the breakdown has arrived, fully and with all the thunder and lightning a body could possibly hold.  He’s such a mess; he’s always such a mess and there’s nothing he can do to even catch his breath for two seconds, let alone maintain some lie of confidence in his basic needs of survival.

Blaine takes a hold of his shoulders and shifts him away so they can see each other.  “I need you to get a grip here.  I need you to be as strong as I know you are and I need you to change your clothes so that you’re dry and comfortable.”  

Kurt shakes his head petulantly and squirms to tear his shoulders out of Blaine’s control.  

“Kurt!  Stop this!  Why are you being so fucking immature right now?  It’s not like you didn’t know what you were in the middle of with this shit.”

“I can’t lose you again.”

Blaine looks at him then pushes him so he’s sitting on the bed.  Blaine promptly sits on his knees and reaches to unbutton Kurt’s pants.  He tugs at them and his underwear until Kurt is naked from the waist down.  Blaine feeds each leg through the holes at the bottom of the sweatpants as though he’s dressing a toddler or a doll, and then extends his knees to get back up on his feet.  He palms Kurt’s chest, right over the heart, and Kurt lifts his arms in response.  Blaine crumbles the wet shirt in a pile on the floor with the wet jeans and guides Kurt’s torso through until he’s fully dressed again.  He steps away and changes himself, obviously fully aware of Kurt’s lingering eyes on every inch of his body, if the show of hips wiggling out of his boxers is any indication.

Blaine looks completely ridiculous in Capri sweatpants with a tuxedo-stripe of sequins down the leg, branded femininely with Victoria’s Secret, and a plain, black, zip-up sweatshirt with material that just won’t give around his biceps.  He has his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

“Stand up, Kurt.”

Kurt does as he’s told and looks down at his own outfit:  mustard yellow sweatpants with the elastic at the ankles and a Tiffany blue sweatshirt that’s choking him around the neck, branded by Hollister and subsequently making him feel like a tool and a half.  He takes it all in and shifts his stare back to Blaine and his outfit before barking out a loud laugh and sob all in the same sound.  “B, you are so gay.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow, somehow looking sexier than ever before as he stalks toward him and slowly opens his arms.  “Did we dodge a panic attack just then or do you still feel it coming?”

“I’m okay.  It all just kind of hit me.  Sometimes it just all comes crashing down and it feels like I can’t breathe, like I don’t want to anymore.”  Kurt looks at Blaine and plasters on a sad smile.  “I lost it when you said you might give up… you said it at the coffee shop then again in the car and I just… tried to picture my life without you in it again and all that kept coming up was my own grave.  Next to Finn.”

“Hey!  Don’t you fucking dare, Kurt.  I’m here with you for as long as you’ll have me.  You’re a survivor and I’m here to make sure of it.”  Blaine closes the distance between them and holds him tight, drawing circles on his back.  He sniffles and Kurt can tell he’s trying to hold back tears.  “You always say that you can’t go on without me?  Well, I’m right there next to you if you do something as stupid as that.  Do you understand me?  Not one breath is worth it without your dramatic ass, pretty.”

“Okay Romeo.”

“Only if you’re my Juliet.”  There’s a pause and then Blaine is doubling over, pretending to vomit everywhere.  “Disgusting.  We are so gross, Kurt.  This shouldn’t ever be spoken of again.”

Kurt smiles and rolls his eyes.  And _he’s_ the dramatic one.  “I literally _can’t_ anymore, Blaine.  We’re done talking about it.”

“We can take action now?”

They can certainly take action now.  Kurt doesn’t mean to resist Blaine at every opportunity, it’s merely an instinct – as if being with Kurt will hurt Blaine somehow.  “Yeah.”

He knows that Blaine wants to be with him; he’s sure of that much.  He knows that he, in turn, wants to be with Blaine for the rest of his time, but is he that lucky to have found something in life that will stick around forever?  

He can’t, for the life of him, seem to figure out why every time he thinks of leaving Oliver for another man who means an infinite amount more to him, it makes him sick to his stomach.  It’s like he’d rather be in pain than put someone else there.

As if Blaine can read his mind, he says the words that Kurt may be the most afraid of.  “Kurt?  You do want to be with me, right?”  And it’s this very moment that Kurt has been trying to avoid since the second he laid eyes on Blaine back in New York for the first time in two years.  “You are all in here with me, yeah?”

“The struggle became real as I was watching Oliver with you.”

“What do you mean?  Kurt, tell me what you mean.”  He’s freaking out, with reason Kurt supposes.  He doesn’t mean to strap him into an endless roller coaster here.  He needs to straighten out the loops on the course before he can truly be all in.  

“I’ve never dumped anyone, or at least anyone who wasn’t beating me up.”  Kurt reveals, a sort of revelation laced within each word.  

“This relationship would be the first one you’re willingly leaving without concrete reason and you’ve come to a crossroads where you need to decide once and for all.  If this decision turns out to be wrong, you might lose true love forever.”

“I don’t love him.”

“I mean _me_.  You’re not sure if you should get back with _me_ and if your decision is wrong, you know that I’ll stop trying because I’ll know that’s what you would want from me.  What’s to tell you, besides my word… which doesn’t hold much validity anyway, given our track record… what’s to tell you that I won’t up and leave again?”

“There is nothing telling me that.”

“I would have hoped your heart was telling you to trust me.  If you don’t trust me, if this whole thing-”

“Blaine.”

“If this whole thing, this whole… what did you call it?  This reconciliation of ours, if it’s been just you leading me on, Kurt.  That’s really fucked up and I’m not sure I can recover from losing you twice.”  Blaine pauses; he’s clearly trying to keep his composure as he ignores his shaking hands.  “Although it was my decision the first time, the second time is going to hurt even more because I had so much more confidence in us this time.”

“I’m not leading you on.”

“What are you doing, Kurt?  What is it that you want from me, then?  Do you want me to sit in the corner and wait more until you figure it out?  What is there to figure out?  What are you working on?  Please, let me help you get to the place where you can open your heart completely to me again.  I won’t survive this, I swear to God baby, I won’t.”

Kurt reaches out for him but he pulls away, crossing the room and staring out the window.

“Blaine.”

“What do you want with me, pretty?”

Kurt sits on the bed and throws his head into his hands.  He focuses on his breathing pattern, on keeping himself steady and calm.  He knows he wants everything with Blaine, and that he’s only resisting to protect everyone involved from a second, more disastrous ending that is not inevitable, but may be likely.  Given the fact that Blaine has taken to this moment to remind him of his ratio of survival should they sever their ties for a second time, Kurt needs a minute to really mull this over and make a decision he won’t back out on.  He looks back at Blaine, eyes shining in the light bouncing off the top of the curtain.  

Blaine crosses the room and rushes down the hall, back into the presence of Santana and Willa.  Kurt’s legs naturally move without his brain telling them to and he follows him like a kitten into the common area of the house.  He stares from the doorway as Santana smiles at Blaine sadly.  He stares as Willa rises to pour him a cup of cocoa, as she puts it in front of Blaine, already sitting at the table.  They sip together and talk quietly amongst themselves and Kurt’s heart breaks at the face Blaine makes when she says, “Are you two okay?”

“Blaine.”  Kurt squeaks.  “I want everything with you.”  It’s such a risk; an end would unquestionably break them both beyond the point of repair and Kurt knows that.  He also knows that he would always wonder _what if_ should he turn Blaine down again.

Santana, Willa, and Blaine all turn to stare at him and he feels like he’s a zoo animal being watched carefully for his next attack.  Blaine puts his mug down as Kurt situates himself next to him, snuggling in to rest his head on Blaine’s chest.

“So why does this feel like we’re done here?”

“I’m ridding myself, before your eyes, of the scared little school boy who hides behind his coffee shops.  I’m a risk taker again, Blaine.  My first risk was you.  My last risk will be you and I’ll be fucking damned if it all doesn’t work out after the effort we’ve both put into this.  Right?  Tell me I’m right and that you still want to be with me, even though I’m positively crazy and I give you heart attacks left and right because I always second guess and I’m never sure.”

“I love you, pretty.  Loose screws and all.”  Blaine and his sparkle-capris tackle Kurt so he’s pinned against the arm of the couch and he simply lies on top of him.  “The most intelligent people in the world were never satisfied.  Einstein, Shakespeare, Lady Gaga, Kurt Hummel… but for the record, you are not allowed to scare me like that.  I could have sworn I was losing you to some crooked-toothed, smelly British dude who licks too much during kissing.”

Santana chimes in.  “That’s fucking disgusting.”  

“He seems like a licker, the little fuck.”  Willa nods.

Kurt chokes on his laugh.  “I don’t know how to get rid of him, you guys.”

Blaine pushes himself up and off of Kurt’s body.  “I think that when the time is right, you’ll know and you’ll just have to bite the bullet.  No one else can do this for you, because you say that you want me forever and all of that, but you won’t really make the decision until you let go of him.  Do you understand that?”

“Yeah.  God, I’ve never been in this situation before.  He loves me almost in the way you love me, I think.  Except he doesn’t get the second chance because I’m being selfish and leaving him for the man I love back.”

“How is that selfish, baby?  That’s _taking care_ of yourself.”  Blaine takes his hand.  “I wouldn’t have fought so hard for you to let me love you for all of these months if I didn’t love myself.  You made me love myself, Kurt.  It’s the least I can do to love you, too.”

“Oh, B.  I love you too.  Thank you for always sticking through the moments of weakness.”

“We started this whole thing on moments of weakness.  It’s what we do best.”

“I’m such an idiot for ever doubting you.”

“You’re not; you’re human.”

“Yeah.”

Blaine bumps his shoulder and they attach again until they are infused as one, reveling in each other’s touch and gaze.  Blaine gets off of him after a few minutes and reaches for Kurt’s cup of hot cocoa, handing it to him carefully as he sits up.  

“So, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Blaine kicks at Kurt’s leg playfully, “I’m totally keeping these sweatpants, Stripper.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Songs Used in this Chapter:**   
**Panic! at the Disco – Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off**   
**Maroon 5 – Never Gonna Leave This Bed**

_Author’s Note:  Sorry, in advance.  I think now is a good time to offer a friendly reminder that in everything I write, Klaine is endgame.  Enjoy…_

_\---_

“So…” Oliver sends his body flying onto the mattress next to Kurt.  “Are we alright?”

Kurt lays his book – an old John Green novel – flat on his chest and looks at his boyfriend.  His negativity has manifested in an uncontrollable way lately and he finds himself looking at Oliver like he’s almost disgusted by his very presence.  He forces himself not to roll his eyes and looks up at the ceiling.  “Why wouldn’t we be?”

And he knows that Oliver’s not stupid; he knows that he senses something is wrong, something’s been wrong since the proposal and there’s nothing Oliver can rationally do to fix it.  He knows that he wants to be with Blaine more than he wants to be with Oliver, and he knows he needs to make the decision officially, and soon, before Blaine is driven up a wall.

“I’ve noticed you seem distracted.”

“I’m busy, you know how busy the coffee shop gets around the holidays.  Plus, I’m home and I want to spend time with my family.”

“I’ve hardly gotten to know your parents.”

“So go find them.  Get to know them.  Blaine never had a problem.”

“Blaine… why does it always come back to Blaine, Kurt?  I’ll never be him.”

“I know.”

“Okay, Kurt.”  Oliver rolls his eyes and shrugs.  

Kurt thinks Oliver may finally feel defeated, like he can’t compete with Blaine anymore.  This is good.  He goes back to his book, reading about teenagers who fall in love with other teenagers in normal situations even if their fairytale has a timestamp and they know it all too well.  

The words blur on the page as his mind drifts to the sunshine that’s brought him up from the underground ever since he’s allowed Blaine back into his life.  It has very easily been the best decision of his year, let alone his life.  Kurt and Blaine both deserve to be happy and together without drama.

The trail of thoughts begins to swirl into something less rated for children and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.  Kurt crosses his leg and shifts his eyeballs toward Oliver to see if he’s noticed and, of course, he has.

There’s nothing wrong with sexual satisfaction with someone Kurt doesn’t love; it’s just that Kurt’s never quite been wired for sex without strings attached.  He doesn’t judge anyone who works with a series of one-night stands, mainly because Blaine is now one of those stereotypical gay boys who seeks out a good fuck at the club, but he can’t help but wonder what the purpose is if there’s no love set out on the table.  As he watches Oliver stare and eventually smirk at him as though he’s going to be the one to fully satisfy his needs when it comes to sex, Kurt realizes that Oliver is absolutely not that person for the job anymore.  He was suitable when there was no other option, but now that Blaine is back… well, Oliver has no possible chance of winning this one.

Kurt faintly hears the front door slam, a period of silence, and the eventual less-than-graceful rush up the stairs that could only be Blaine.  Something inside him turns to fire and it rips through his veins like lava.  He needs Blaine, he needs to touch Blaine, he needs Blaine to touch him, but he can’t do so much as admit it out loud with Oliver here, so he needs to lure Blaine into the situation without using his words.  

He bounces up and off the bed and strips quickly and efficiently.  He feels Oliver’s curious, horny eyes on him but he’s not caring right now; he wants to feel used by two men this instant, and then he wants to walk away with one of them securely tucked into his arm as if Blaine Anderson is the prize at the end of the race.

Oliver, ignorant to Kurt’s real plans, follows suit and starts to prep Kurt for what’s to come.  Kurt complies, puts on a show, hopes and prays that Blaine will come looking for him and be faced with the decision to fuck Kurt in front of a stranger who is only there to observe the undeniable chemistry they must have.  Not only does he hope Blaine finds him in this position – writhing under the touch of another man – but he hopes he’ll take action on it too, given their less-than-stellar history when it comes to prolonging and succeeding in threesomes pleasurable for everyone.  There’s nothing Kurt can do but wait as Oliver tries desperately to get him closer to the edge.  The only reason why he feels anything at all in this moment is because he’s thinking of Blaine’s parts hot and inside of him.

**xK &Bx**

Blaine really needs a shower.  Still flushed and out of breath from his run, he limps up the porch stairs and into the house, desperately in need of water.  He may have pushed a little too hard today with all of this talk of an opportunity to have Kurt back sooner than later, and accompanying him to the cemetery for the first time ever.  His mind got away from him and he was out for longer than expected, so when he returns to a painfully quiet house with a note on the counter from Burt saying that he went into the shop early, Blaine figures he’s alone.  He’s not sure where everyone else is, but he’s happy to have some time by himself to think further about Kurt’s birthday and Christmas.  He plans to take a steam shower to rid himself of any aches that comes along with an accidental fifteen-mile run and an ex-boyfriend who swears he wants to be with him again, but only in private for now.  He’d do anything for Kurt, and he’s finally realizing that it’s a less than healthy obsession.

He’s actively trying to catch his breath as he bends over and puts his hands on both of his knees.  The last two miles of his run found him including a fast sprint to work up to getting used to a twenty-six-mile marathon. He opens the fridge to search for a bottle of water and when he finds one, he tilts his head back and chugs the entire thing in one swig.  He sways in his place and daydreams about what he’d be doing right now if he were allowed to openly be with Kurt again.  

After recycling the empty plastic bottle, crinkled inward from the lack of oxygen as he sucked on its contents, Blaine bounces up the stairs to make himself presentable.  

Last night after they left Santana’s house, Blaine treated Kurt to Thai food as a way to rewind and relax before heading back to Burt’s.  They talked of their future, and the real reason why Kurt couldn’t go through with the threesome earlier – it was too planned.  When they finally got back home, Carole was there with Oliver, comforting him and promising that Kurt and Blaine would be back soon, that they have to come back if they want their stuff.  

Everything on the surface seems to be fixed between Kurt and Oliver, although Blaine hopes Kurt is only grinning and bearing it until they are back in New York, and only because Blaine insists he’s physically far away from any hint of _that_ conversation.

Smiling at the memory of the practice breakup speech that had Blaine crying from laughter back at the Thai restaurant yesterday, Blaine chooses to take a shower in Kurt’s bathroom if only for the impeccable water pressure and the comfort of the abundance of space they always had in that bathroom.  He still loves Kurt, of that he is certain, but God, the added bonus of coming home with Kurt is sex in that shower.  He prays that Oliver hasn’t gotten the pleasure.

He makes his way down the hall and into the linen closet, gathering two fluffed towels, both taller than him if he were to unfold them.  He hurries into the bathroom he’s been using and grabs his body wash, figuring Kurt has notable hair product that he could borrow; it would go completely unnoticed, although what’s Kurt’s is his so it really doesn’t matter much. 

The door to Kurt’s high school bedroom is closed so he barges in as naturally as always, and most certainly does not expect the sight in front of him.  He sees a squinting, bright red, seemingly pained Oliver Ellington going to town on Kurt’s body as though it is a slab of raw steak or a piece of slimy poultry not yet ready to take the shape of a firm, cooked piece of meat.  Oliver’s clearly putting his all into the attempt to make Kurt come and it appears that it’s simply not working.

He sputters and turns to face the wall then turns completely so his back is to their bodies.

“Oh my fucking God!  Kurt, Jesus!  I’m so sorry.  Fuck!   Um… I’m just gonna…”  He stutters and slams the door, skipping random steps as he fleets downward and as far away from _that_ as possible, out of breath again but for an entirely different reason than running two miles every twelve minutes.  

The image of Kurt being impaled by a squirmy, overly British, good-for-nothing specimen that doesn’t deserve Kurt in the slightest will never leave Blaine’s head.  Also embedded until kingdom come: the lack of the whore-like moan he remembers so well from their own times together.  Instead, the sound that Kurt must reserve for Oliver – the high-pitched _uh uh uh_ – is something admittedly in second place to the sounds Blaine gets. The finger marks on Oliver’s upper thigh bound to be a light purple and sensitive to the touch before the night is over come in second to the bruises Blaine usually gets directly under his collar or behind his ear. 

This isn’t fair.  Less than twenty-four hours after Kurt ensuring Blaine that he’s his forever, he’s being dominated by some Gumby asshole with no respect.  It should be Blaine hovering over Kurt, connecting them like they need this for survival.  Blaine can’t stand that Kurt acts relatively the same when it’s someone else, at least during sex, and he grips the banister at the bottom of the stairs to level his footing before he falls over and just _dies_.  

Jealousy is usually such an ugly emotion in Blaine, and he’s been consciously working on not showing it in front of Oliver or Kurt since the altercation at the Lima Bean, but it’s still jealousy that takes Blaine over completely right now.  Anything pertaining to Kurt and anyone else in the world, and Blaine has fire coming out of his ears.  

It’s also very much not fair that Blaine was the one only yesterday to suggest Kurt’s breakup with Oliver to happen when they get back to New York, especially considering Kurt was ready and willing to cut Oliver out of his life right then and there.  Blaine’s the one who talked him out of it yesterday, so Blaine is the one who should be blamed for the images burning into his brain now, for the appearances Kurt needs to keep until he gets back to the city.  Blaine thinks he might as well fucking tucked them into bed together.

Regardless of all of the mature conversation they’ve had about this topic and their relationship, about the failed threesome, about Blaine and Kurt’s real feelings about each other, something else entirely is still happening upstairs.  Directly above Blaine right this second, _his_ Kurt is being brutally fucked into the mattress by another man.  It’s _his_ Kurt enjoying the touch of another man entirely, _his_ Kurt moaning someone else’s name.  He needs to put a stop to it, although he, in a way, encouraged this less than a day ago.  If he could, he’d kick himself in the shin.

He remembers the conversation he had with Kurt the other night about Oliver wanting a threesome, and then them finally acting on it and failing miserably.  He remembers how the simple failure brought the two of them closer together somehow, and he remembers Kurt explaining that he had too much to think about, thus it failing.  In order to nip this whole situation in the bud and claim Kurt once and for all, Blaine knows what he needs to do.  He’s been given the opportunity, and although it’s definitely not the best idea on a good day let alone when Blaine is terribly jealous, it has to be done because this may be his only chance to show Oliver just how much chemistry they do have with each other.  This may be the only time Blaine gets the opportunity to scare Oliver away, once and for all.

He’s not sure why it matters so much to him; it’s like Oliver hasn’t already admitted it to him over earl grey tea at two o’clock in the fucking morning.  Blaine doesn’t believe anything that comes out of Oliver’s mouth when he says that he thinks it’s over.  He needs to show Oliver just how over it is; he needs to rightfully and fairly claim Kurt back, as if he’s up for auction.

He’s objectifying the love of his life but in this moment he doesn’t care.  He knows that Kurt gets off on just the thought of being used, and if objectification is part of the dirty sex he knows Kurt likes then it’s just another thing Blaine knows about his boy.

He sprints up the stairs again, this time with purpose.  He takes two at a time, if only to showcase the undeniable need for speed here, until he finds himself with his nose inches away from the same closed door leading to Kurt and Douchelord getting it on.  He can hear hitched breathing and soft words of encouragement from Oliver, trying desperately but failing to bring Kurt to his climax.  It’s as though he didn’t walk in on them two minutes ago; it’s as if Kurt doesn’t care about what Blaine has witnessed at all, how much his heart is breaking right there on the other side of the door.  This turns Blaine into rage.

**xK &Bx**

“Oliver, please.  Harder.  I need you to go harder.”  Kurt whispers the words, unsure when Blaine is going to come back… because he is going to come back.  He wants him jealous, but he doesn’t want him in a full-on rage.

Kurt’s boyfriend is a wasteful piece of lard who is nowhere near the sexual satisfaction Kurt wants, needs, and expects.  Kurt knows he’s comparing again, but how can he not when Oliver is trying to stand next to Blaine?  

Blaine is beautiful, even more now as he’s molded comfortably into the body he is supposed to have.  Now that Kurt’s seen Blaine’s adult physique, he realizes that the perfection he thought he had five years ago was nowhere near what the potential could have given him at the time.  By physical comparison, Blaine wins the muscle game, the cock game, and the arms game all within one measly competition.  By emotional comparison, Blaine always wins that too.  He hardly competes; he will always win in every game with Kurt’s heart as the first prize.

Oliver speeds up even more and Kurt actually worries for his boyfriend’s health; it’s possible that all of the overexertion will find Oliver limply on top of Kurt’s body, dead of a heart attack.  He focuses on Oliver’s stomach fat jiggling with each movement and when he’s sick of watching that, he turns his head so his ear is snug against the pillow and he’s staring at the door. 

**xK &Bx**

Blaine turns the knob slowly enough then pushes at it to make a grand entrance, the door slamming against the wall as it bends back to be at the same angle.  He crosses his arms over his chest and leans up against the door’s frame.  His eyebrow is raised; he clears his throat although Kurt is already looking straight at him with blown pupils and a plea to save him.  Obviously.

He hopes that Kurt can tell that his walls have been retracted upward and he’s here to stake his claim.  It’s now or never, once and for all, if it’s the last thing he does.  It’s all the clichés and none of them at the same time.  This is Blaine fighting for Kurt and Kurt finally taking it seriously.

He’s jealous, fucking seething with envy and rage, and wants nothing more but to push Oliver out of the way and take Kurt like he has so many times before.  He feels a ping when he looks at Kurt.  It’s time to grow up and let go of the childhood feelings and take Kurt back now, fully and as an adult.

As Kurt meets Oliver’s millionth thrust and at the sound of the door slamming against the wall in sync with the headboard to the other wall, he _smirks_ wildly at Blaine, eyes not full of pleasure but something else Blaine can’t quite place.  The punch of each thrust into him has him knocking his head harshly against the headboard, sending it blazing against the wall.  It appears to be similar to the rough sex that Blaine used to enjoy with Kurt, but the difference now is that Kurt doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.  When Kurt doesn’t look away from him even for a glimmer or a blink, Blaine knows that it’s absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent him who’s winning today, so he takes two steps closer to Kurt, eyes locked on his prey’s beautiful face.  He checks in, to see what Oliver’s reaction to all of this is now that the suggestion is about to become a reality.  He’s too enthralled in the tight canals of Kurt’s ass to notice Blaine’s presence, and that is just fine with Blaine.  If he’s thinking honestly, Blaine can’t blame Oliver and the fact that he’s so far into the concentration with Kurt right there.  

Oliver changes the angle only slightly, but it has Kurt rolling his eyes at the attempt, faking a moan of pleasure from the back of his throat, and suddenly Blaine’s not jealous anymore.  He knows the difference of Kurt’s faces and grins at him, trying painfully hard to not allow a chuckle to escape.  Oliver stops, bottomed out and kneeling on the edge of the bed closest to Kurt’s hole, and follows Kurt’s line of vision until he meets Blaine’s face, who can’t be bothered with Oliver’s gaze enough to break the eye contact he’s holding with Kurt.  Oliver groans in disgust at the sight of Blaine and looks back to Kurt, trying to lure him back into paying attention to the one of them that currently has his cock all the way inside of him.

“I think your boyfriend is having a little difficulty in getting you off, pretty boy.”

“Mmmm, fuck off Blaine.”  Oliver groans, rolling his eyes as he picks up again, thrusting harshly in and out of Kurt, patiently waiting for the feeling low in his stomach to heat up.  It’s all rather anti-climatic and Blaine can’t help but scoff.

Ignoring what this _human dildo_ has to say altogether, he tilts his head, thoroughly and internally criticizing the angle, the power of the thrust, even the unkempt hair growing out of Oliver’s, well, ugly-as-sin private parts.  He lets out a chuckle; he’s actually physically amazed that Kurt is into him even a little bit.

“Oliver.  I think it’d be in your best interest and Kurt’s if you were to get a loofa.  And maybe some soap.”

“Get the fuck out of here, little boy.”

“Oli… Oli, wait.  Blaine is just doing what you asked for.”  With each thrust, regardless of who’s moving inside of him, Kurt’s voice stutters.  It’s just a jump in breath that Blaine shouldn’t have noticed but _nothing_ gets past Blaine.  Kurt’s breathing is heavy; he has yet to take his eyes off of Blaine, standing there like the tough guy that he reshaped so many years ago.  His walls are up and there’s only one thing that could relieve the tension now.  _Kurt_.

Oliver comes to a halt and looks down at his boyfriend.  He pulls out and stares at him.  “I didn’t ask for some little punk to stumble in on us and want to fuck your brains out.  Are you defending him, Kurt?” 

Kurt props himself up on his elbows.  

“You said you wanted to see our… undeniable connection first hand, Oliver?  Are you jealous that someone so much younger and thus less experienced than you can handle him better than you can?”  Blaine pipes in and swallows.  He’s trying to exude confidence but he’s pretty sure he’s acting like the “little boy” Oliver believes him to be.

Oliver looks at Blaine and nods.  “Shut the fuck up.  He loves me now.”

“So then why did we have that conversation in the middle of the night about how you think it’s time to let him go?”  Blaine looks at Kurt then continues when he gets the shocked reaction he wants.  “Let’s make this a little challenge.  Kurt here can come whenever he wants to, but I can guarantee that my magic will blow his mind in half the time that it takes you to make him even get close.”

“I dare you.”

Blaine notices that Kurt is watching the exchange like a tennis match and Blaine can tell he’s so hot for aggressive demeanor right now, if only for the way he carries himself when he’s in a subtle but true-to-the-bone competition with another man to make him come.  He’s writhing on the mattress but not because of the person who currently has all of the contact.

Blaine approaches Oliver, grazes his fingertips up his thigh, artfully avoiding his cock, teasing each of his inner thighs and behind the knee caps, up through his abs, pecs, teasing at both of his nipples with a swipe of a finger then quickly with his tongue, and finally cups the back of his neck.  “You wanna know why your boyfriend is still into me after all this time?  Besides the fact that I am actually halfway attractive, confident, and always there for him no matter what?  I think it might have something to do with my kiss, Oli Oli Oxen Free.”  With that, he pulls Oliver in tight for a sizzling hot-as-the-sun kiss identical to the one in the club.  Somehow, it seems to mean more in the privacy of a bedroom.  With open jaws, Oliver and Blaine taste each other as Blaine keeps one eye open and focused on Kurt’s reaction, making sure that each step of the way is okay for him.  Oliver licks inside and to the back of Blaine’s teeth, possibly trying to turn Blaine on.  With a roll of his eyes and a giggle from Kurt, he pulls him even closer, internally cursing everything he is for the horse slobber and saliva he has dripping down his chin. 

“Do I look like a porn star, Kurt?”  Blaine pulls away and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. He laughs when Kurt blushes.  The mood turns serious again and Blaine kneels down in front of the mattress and pushes a strand of hair away from Kurt’s eyes.  “Hey.  We don’t have to do this.  Are you sure?”  Kurt stares back at him with a slight nod.

“I’m sure.  Need you.”

 “Okay.  You want me to top?”  Blaine mimics what Kurt did to him once upon a time, something that’s always stuck with him since the second time they’d ever had sex as a moment of undeniable emotion; he takes his pointer finger and bops him on the nose, grinning down at the beautifully debauched boy lying there securely in the sheets, waiting for all of it... for all of him.

_You know it will always just be me._

Kurt gives him a dazzling smile, entranced by everything Blaine is, glowing from anticipation of finally being with the one he loves above everything again; Blaine translates it as hope for the future, prayers for forever.  Kurt nods slowly, smiles bright and happy.  Now all they need to do is get rid of the old log, and they can soar away into forever.  Again.

“Okay pretty boy.  Tell your _boyfriend_ to watch and learn.  Step one.  Make sure he is okay with anything and everything you want to do with him.”  He pushes off the ground to stand again, seductively stripping his running gear off and throwing it to the corner, biting his lip and taking special care that Kurt is comfortable. He cracks his neck to both sides, lazily stroking his cock, officially inviting it to the party, eyes still locked on Kurt’s.  “You good?”

Kurt only stares.  This always means there’s a green light, when Kurt can find no words, instead taking in Blaine’s body and gearing himself up for the intensity of perfect love they’re about to endure together.  Blaine notes that this feels remarkably different than any other time; it truly is like Kurt is giving up with Oliver and welcoming Blaine back into his life fully and for everyone to see.  Today, they come out of hiding.

Blaine smiles warmly at him and shoves Oliver to the side a bit, where he falls gracelessly next to Kurt and holds at his shoulder.  He nuzzles cautiously into the nook of Kurt’s neck, but Kurt only has sense for Blaine in this moment.  As he lines his cock to touch at Kurt’s hole and finds his eyes again, there’s only one other person in the room.  He steals a glance from Oliver and then back to Kurt and decides that he needs to be overly loving, overly caring, the epitome of a perfect partner not only because it’s Kurt but because Oliver is watching and he can just tell, just by looking at the scowl on his face, that Oliver is not an ideal partner for Kurt.  Blaine has a feeling that Oliver’s more of a “fuck” guy.

“I need a condom.”

Kurt twists to find one on the nightstand and tosses it in Blaine’s direction.

Blaine unwraps it and looks back to Oliver’s cock, comparing it thoughtfully with his own, and decides that maybe in order for Kurt to be at his most comfortable, he needs to prepare him just a bit more.  

Blaine allows his mind to wander as he rolls the condom on and lubes it up.  He figures that Oliver was pushing so hard for a threesome so he could learn tips and tricks from the way Blaine takes care of Kurt, and then use what Blaine knows for pleasuring his current boyfriend, Blaine’s ex.  As if any of that would have mattered anyway; Kurt’s given Blaine his word that they’re breaking up as soon as they return to New York.  Hell, even Oliver has confided in Blaine about this being closure.  Maybe he feels just a bit too paranoid for his own good.

Blaine literally shudders as he’s looking between Oliver and down at his clothesless self.  The physicality of the two could not possibly be more different, and Blaine absently hopes that Kurt wasn’t attracted to Oliver initially _because_ he was so different than Blaine, like he thoughtlessly said back in New York so many months ago.  He hopes it had to do with something else, although Blaine is failing to see any one reason why anyone, let alone the sexgod himself, Kurt Hummel, would ever be attracted to Oliver.  First and foremost, they carry themselves differently – like night and day.  They are simply different people, although Kurt swears he has a type:  damaged goods.  This dude just seems like he’s exactly what Christian wanted Blaine to become, minus the gay part.

He shrugs a bit to himself and hops off of the bed, instead aiming to kneel on the carpet below, latching his forearms to tangle with Kurt’s thighs and he pulls his bottom closer to his mouth.  He wordlessly promises Kurt that he’ll be thoroughly pleasured from this point forward.  He presses his palms into both of Kurt’s cheeks and uses his thumbs to pull the skin away from his hole and he licks his lips in wonder.  He gives Kurt’s pucker a tentative lick, audibly swallows a supply of saliva in his mouth, and peeks up at Oliver between his boyfriend’s legs.  Between Kurt’s sinful sounds and Oliver’s slack-jaw and amazed face staring in Blaine’s direction, Blaine has all the proof he needs to confirm that poor Kurt is not appreciated enough by Oliver to have ever been rimmed.

“Did you come in his ass?”

“I was about to before you rudely interrupted.”  Oliver responds quickly, as smugly as anyone probably would in that moment.  

“Well, I think you started to because you taste like gasoline.”  He deadpans then smiles at Kurt and pinches his right ass cheek.

“How do you know you haven’t lost the acquired taste for Kurt?”

“Because I just went on a very long run and I smell like roses next to you.  And also, I assure you that I’ll never forget what Kurt tastes like, and it’s definitely not gasoline.  That’s your skank ass.”

Blaine goes back to work, faintly listening to Oliver’s huff and Kurt’s strained giggle, interrupted by the intensifying feeling of his tongue licking out Kurt’s orgasm.   Blaine traces every piece of Kurt’s pucker, opening him slowly and thoroughly, as if his life depends on it.  He teases as he always has, cupping and massaging his balls until he almost falls over the edge.  At exactly the right second (Blaine knows the exact second), he pulls away completely and watches Kurt physically deflate deeper into the mattress.  

Blaine gets up and lies on top of Kurt’s body so their mouths are inches away.  “Hey, pretty.”  His voice is deeper, raspy, wanton.

Kurt whispers a simple word; it’s a word that means everything is okay.  “Hi.”

“Excuse me.  This is supposed to be good for me, too.”  Oliver chimes in and struggles to get himself closer, trying to tangle himself up in both boys.  

Blaine waves a hand at him dismissively.  “Yep.  We’ll get to you in a minute, boyfriend.”  He keeps his eyes locked on Kurt’s lips.

Oliver huffs and rests his naked back against the headboard next to Kurt’s hands, already gripping and ready for the ride.

Blaine rolls his eyes, hoping to convey a message to Kurt: something along the lines of _“Where the hell did you find this guy?”_   

He sucks at the succulent spot behind Kurt’s ear, turning him into a whimpering mess.  He keeps his voice low; this is a secret for only Kurt to hear.  “We don’t have to do this, Kurt.  I won’t be mad or freaked out or anything.  Are you sure?”  He doesn’t wait for an answer; instead, he nibbles at his lover’s earlobe. 

“Want you.  Please, B.”

He projects his normal voice now as he crawls backward to straddle Kurt’s hips.  “Whatever you do, don’t let go of the headboard.  Will you listen?”

“Yeah.  Take me, baby.”

“Because I don’t want to show Oliver Twist over here our kinky side.  He seems like he’s already about to puke.  Maybe I’m too young for him, or maybe he likes the fact that I’m twenty-three too much.”

“Mmm, I’ll listen.  Come on, Blaine.”  Kurt can’t help but thrust up into Blaine’s pelvis, their erections causing unexpected friction against each other. 

“Not yet, pretty.  I can ride you after.  First let’s show your boyfriend what connection really looks like, huh?”

“Please, God B.”  Kurt grips the spindles of the headboard tighter and he’s all white knuckles and overflowing emotion.  He sears a glare toward Oliver when he starts rubbing at his forearm gently; he wants to get in on the action, but Kurt will not let him.  This is a moment that he wants to have with only Blaine, and it’s obvious when he realizes that it was a mistake for them to do this with Oliver present.  It all seems okay, though; they’re so close and they’ll have the rest of their lives perfecting their sexual memories.

Blaine laughs and shakes his head, resting his hands right above Kurt’s chest, and kisses on the skin to protect his heart.  He lingers and turns to rest his chin on his clavicle.  “You want me, Kurt?  All of me?”

“All of you.  Take it, baby.  Yours.”  

Oliver visibly tenses but keeps his attention on the porn scene that’s happening directly in front of him.  

Blaine extends his neck to reach Kurt’s lips and pecks fully down, reciting an annoying _muah_ sound to make it even more obnoxious.  He straightens back up, inching his hands down to grab at Kurt’s tiny waist.  

“You know, I thought for sure by now you’d put on some pounds.  But you’re still as perfect as you were six years ago.”

“Just fuck me, Blaine!”

Blaine lets out a laugh from his belly.  “So eloquent.  So needy.  Haven’t had good sex in a while, huh babe?”  His eyes flicker to Oliver, seething and bright red with anger.  Blaine laughs again and lines up the tip of his cock to the perfection of Kurt’s crease.  “Me either, because nothing’s compared since.”

He pushes in, the heat of Kurt’s insides wholly ganging up on him and lighting his cock on fire.  He moans from deep in his throat all the way in and throws his head back and his jaw open until it’s satisfying, until he can’t possibly thrust any deeper.  The way that just this act alone – with or without an audience – completes their relationship further convinces Blaine that they should absolutely be together until the end of time, regardless of the hurricane he was previously dragged through by Kurt Hummel.

Kurt’s eyes are swimming with tears, but Blaine knows and shares the sentiment.  His eyes become wet; he smiles through them and waits as patiently as he’s been with everything else.  He waits for Kurt to give him the magic word.  He’ll wait for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes, positioned here, hovering over his lover and best friend.  They are connected at the most important part of the mind, body, and soul, and it’s finally possible to truly be _them_ again. 

“Move.”

And Blaine does.  Each pull out and thrust back in is dripping with devotion, dedication.  It is with an intense feeling of joy, completeness, and the simple act of coming home.  

_Take it, take it all, take all that I have._   
_Give it all away just to get you back._

It is everything that both Blaine and Kurt have wanted for weeks, months, years and it feels flawless to get to the space in their heads for each other.  Finally, after everything, after absolutely everything, they’re together again.  

Blaine’s snapped out of his overwhelming promise of eternal love when he feels the mattress sink, Oliver getting up and over toward him, attempting to cop a feel and maybe even direct his dick into Blaine.  

Blaine stops the movement and looks down at Kurt, eyes scared and apprehensive.  He only agreed to a threesome where he could only interact with Kurt, and he’s overwhelmed again with feeling completely opposite to the feelings he possessed when it was just him and Kurt in their own separate world.  At Oliver’s cock slipping between Blaine’s ass cheeks, he pulls out of Kurt in a harsh manner and jumps across the room and into the corner, folding his arms across his chest sheepishly and looking down at his feet, wishing he could just disappear.

Kurt sits up on his elbows and looks at Blaine and then to Oliver, completely unaware of the interaction and rejection of a threesome in all senses of the word.  “You guys?”

Oliver jumps into the space previously occupied by Blaine and lines his cock up with Kurt’s most valued area.  “Come on, babe.  You gotta come for me, you’re _my_ boyfriend.”  Oliver inserts powerfully, causing Kurt to yelp in pain.

“Oliver!  Jesus, fuck.”  Kurt can’t help but move with Oliver now that he’s replaced Blaine.  Blaine is watching intently from the corner and he knows the scowl on his face is as ugly as he feels it should be under the circumstance.

Kurt searches the room for Blaine; he motions his closest hand and clenches a fist open and closed a few times.  “Oh… oh, Blaine.”

Blaine is wide-eyed with his tail between his legs.  He’s not comfortable anymore, to the point where he’s letting the best of him unravel, and he feels tears so close but still behind the surface.

He stares at Kurt. 

Smiling for the sake of comfort, Kurt whispers. “Please, baby.  I need you.”

Blaine suddenly feels sick to his stomach at the thought of anyone hurting Kurt.  

Blaine finds his running leggings, squeezing himself back into the compression material of the pants, his bulge overwhelming below the spandex.  

They lock eyes and Kurt speaks.  “Oli, stop.  Please… we’re done here.”  

Oliver continues thrusting, seemingly too close to his own climax to hear any instruction. 

“Oliver!”  Kurt screams at him to rip him out of his concentration.  Oliver immediately pulls out just in time for Blaine to tackle him on the floor and meet a series of swift right hooks directly to the nose.

Oliver is sputtering blood and flailing his arms so Blaine controls himself and jumps up onto his feet again. 

“Fuck.”

“Blaine!  What the fuck did you do that for? Jesus!”  Kurt scrambles to the edge of the bed and runs into his en-suite bathroom.  The water starts and Kurt’s out seconds later with a dampened washcloth.  He puts pressure to Oliver’s nose and looks up at Blaine, scowling and angry and concerned for everyone involved.

“He tried to… and I thought he was hurting you.  Fuck!”

“Just… go.”

“Kurt.”

“Go!  I’ll find you later, just go.”  Kurt turns his attention back to Oliver, now sitting up and smirking at Blaine.

Blaine looks at him then back to Kurt.  _This isn’t real; this can’t be happening._   When Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, he quickly retreats to his own bedroom, punching at the pillows on the bed and letting all of the tears flow.  His imagination gets away from him unwillingly as he slowly comes up with reasons why Oliver must have wanted the threesome in the first place.  There are so many possible ulterior motives, as if Oliver knew that something like this would happen because all Blaine is to him is a loose canon.  Blaine figures he fell right into the fucking trap and has now officially lost Kurt forever, and just when Kurt was finally seeing how Blaine had matured during their time apart.

Maybe it’s Kurt who needs some maturing.

**xK &Bx**

Oliver can admit that the sounds from Kurt’s mouth are very different to the ones out of his mouth during his time with him, and he thinks that’s a good thing in the question of sexual chemistry.  There is something added to the look on his face though, something that Oliver can’t quite place.  There’s a diamond in his boyfriend’s eye, almost a promise that he’ll never be without Blaine again as he essentially tells him to get lost for now. Oliver’s always thought that Kurt reacts to Blaine because he was the first person to ever have loved Kurt properly.  He realizes now that they both have the same glint in their eye because they are looking at the only person they will ever love again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Songs used in this Chapter:**   
**Young The Giant – Cough Syrup**   
**Lady Antebellum – Need You Now (Acoustic)**

Blaine sits up at the edge of Finn’s bed and tries to listen intently to what’s being said between the couple.  Oliver’s being rather childish about the entire situation, considering he’s the one who requested and begged for the threesome in the first place, if only to prove the connection in his own head.  The magnet is, of course, intact again, stronger than ever, so Blaine is not surprised when he finds himself dragging his feet up and away from the corner of the room, opening his door and leaning against the frame with an ear pointed to the next room over.  After nauseating moments of silence, the door to Kurt’s bedroom opens hastily and Kurt stumbles out.  His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, tears pooling with a devastated frown that takes Blaine’s heart and crushes it.  Kurt goes to fly down the stairs and probably wherever he can to escape, but freezes at the sight of Blaine watching him.  

Blaine’s doleful, pity-ridden face staring back at him is all he can seem to take.  Blaine tilts his head slowly and opens his arms as an invitation he knows Kurt will understand.  The next thing Blaine realizes, he’s being crashed into at full speed and the sound of the sobs out of Kurt’s mouth are otherworldly.  Blaine tries to ease him out of a spiraling breakdown and lures him downstairs, out the front door and straight into Kurt’s car despite Burt’s questioning eyebrows as he comes up the pathway, just getting home from work.  He deposits Kurt into the passenger’s seat and kneels down and over him to snap his seatbelt into place, and his heart breaks when he stares at him, pleadingly and distraught to just be with him.  Blaine nods a single movement of his head and looks into Kurt’s sullen face and touches their lips together gently, lingering a few seconds too long for it to be chaste and innocent, but long enough to make sure Kurt knows he means it.

“You are so pretty when you cry, baby, but I’m going to see to it that you don’t have to ever again.”

Kurt turns his head to look at Blaine, allowing his lips to fold up at enough of an angle to almost resemble a smile.  “Run away with me.”

Blaine lets out a chuckle and squeezes his hand.  “What do you think we’re doing, pretty boy?  Although, I must say… you haven’t deserved me in the slightest lately.  I’m still here, though.  Okay?”  He rushes around to the driver’s seat, and looks over the car at Burt, folded arms and a grimace on his face. 

“Oliver-related drama that he needs to get away from.” Blaine says, by way of explanation.  “I’ll call in a few hours.”  The timing is perfect as he pulls away just as Oliver scampers out of the door, tripping down the stairs, chasing the car like a mutt from the pound, and screaming insecurities for the entire neighborhood and his boyfriend’s father to witness.

**xK &Bx**

Driving together is an invigorating experience.  For most of their time in Ohio, they were unable to do such a thing because of Blaine’s probation, and when they got to New York, there was no point of driving anywhere.  

It’s a silent and smooth ride, Blaine turning his hands on the steering wheel whenever he feels like it, and suddenly they are faced with the entrance ramp to the highway.  He’s finally able to open up the engine for performance of Kurt’s shiny, new, German toy.  Blaine looks at Kurt for any reaction at all, but he’s still staring out the window without any emotion whatsoever since he’s calmed down, without even one clue as to why he was breaking down in the first place.  Blaine merges onto the highway and steps on the gas.  He switches into the left lane and finds the perfect song on his iPhone for the sake of riding sans destination.  He hits play and turns the volume up as high as it will go without cracking the speakers.  

He needs Kurt to feel better, and he’s ready to do whatever it takes to get a smile back on his face.

_Life’s too short to even care at all._   
_I’m losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control._   
_These fishes in the sea, they’re staring at me._   
_A wet world aches for a beat of a drum._

Blaine sings the lyrics as goofily and hilariously as he possibly can, looking between his mute passenger and the road, at least getting a small smile out of Kurt.  The song goes into the next verse and Blaine grabs Kurt’s fist to use as a microphone.  “Come on.  You know this one, don’t you babe?”

_If I could find a way to see this straight_   
_I’d run away_   
_To some fortune that I, I should have found by now._   
_I’m waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down._

He floors the gas pedal again and recklessly drives to wherever they are going.  He beats his hand on the steering wheel to the drum line and patiently waits for his Kurt to return to him.  By the time they reach the bridge two miles down, they’re both scream-singing together, a scene straight out of _Crossroads_.

_And so I run now to the things they said could restore me._   
_Restore life the way it should be._   
_I’m waiting for this cough syrup to come down._   
_One more spoon of cough syrup now, whoa._

Blaine keeps Kurt’s hand safe in his, tangling their fingers together, and he keeps driving.  “Where are we going, Kurt?”

“Who cares?  Just keep going.”

“And you’re okay?”  He leads his hand up to his lips and drops a kiss directly onto Kurt’s knuckles.

“I’m fine.”  Kurt smiles at him and sighs.  “He just said some pretty stupid stuff and again, I just wanted it to be you standing there fighting pointlessly.  It’s really getting to be a pattern of times when I want Oliver to be Blaine.”  He pushes at his cuticles.  

“Kurt.”  Blaine laughs.  “You shouldn’t _want_ to fight with me.”

“I do, though.  When we fight, I just… it’s unrealistic to think that we’ll never fight as a couple, Blaine.  Or that I’m always making a decision that’s best for us.  Fighting is another way to show we care.  _You_ don’t save things and file them away until you need them just because you know it will hurt me.”

“You’re comparing us again, baby.”

“There’s no comparison.”

Blaine nods.  “Let’s just get to some sort of destination where you can sit and think about it all.”  He shifts in his seat to give his body something to react to.  He’s biting his tongue with everything else he wants to say.  “I hate him so much for hurting you.”

“Uh huh.”

“I wanna punch him so bad.  He fucking sucks.”

“You’re biased.  Also, you’ve already punched him.  Several times.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t suck!  I’m sorry, by the way.  I didn’t mean to put you in that position…”

“If anyone put anyone in a position, it’s my stupidity and immaturity, thinking you were going to hang on and take all of that while I had my cake and ate it too.”  Kurt sighs and looks out the window.  “I’m so sorry, B.”  

Blaine keeps riding the left lane, still headed to nowhere.

“Kurt?”

“Mmm.”

“I win.”

Kurt laughs, a smile so bright it shines.  “You do.  Me too.”

**xK &Bx**

It’s only been an hour, but they’re in a different world entirely, one that only belongs to them and one where they can’t possibly be afraid because they have each other.  They haven’t let go of one another’s hand in the entirety of the trip so far.

Blaine feels the urge to check in with Kurt and his wellbeing.  He has the rest of his life to make up for careless mistakes, so he figures he should probably start now.  “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”  Kurt offers.

Blaine nods.  He’s apprehensive to know what Oliver said, but he also senses that he’ll need to.  “What did he say to you?  I’m not above kicking his ass.”

“Just stuff that one should never, ever say to anyone.”  Kurt shakes his head.  “It was just proof that he is a self-centered prick and I can’t believe I didn’t see it all earlier.”

“Care to give me an example?”

“So… um.  Shit, you have to promise not to kill him.”

“Kurt.”  If Kurt had to preface whatever he’s about to say with _that_ , there’s no doubt in Blaine’s mind that he will probably have to kill him, indeed.

“So back in July, after I went back to New York from Finn’s graduation memorial, I tried to explain the basics to him so he would stop calling it a fucking vacation to Indiana.  Which is ironic, being that we are currently in Indiana.  Running away.”

Blaine rolls his eyes but smiles all the while.  “Kurt, if he said something about Finn’s memorial…” He pulls off of the highway at the sign for restaurants.  He follows them until they’re in the parking lot of an Olive Garden.

Kurt gets out of the car without a snarky opinion Blaine is sure to receive at some point and waits for him to get out of the car as well.  When he joins him, he continues the story as they walk inside.

“He did.  He said it was stupid and that Rachel and I need to move on, but he was so supportive on the surface when I was telling him about it, you know?  And then I tried to summarize the whole attack, and nightmares… this was months ago, and he blamed you at the time, bringing it all up again tonight.  That maybe it was my fault for being so… stereotypical… and Christian had every right to ruin our lives a little if it was something he wanted to do in order to affect his own son.”

Blaine looks over at him, then swiftly back to the door in front of him.  Opening the door into the restaurant for Kurt without a word, this may be the first time in his entire life where he truly has no idea how he wants to or how he should respond, so he doesn’t.  

“Speechless?  I was too.”

Blaine wishes he could go off on a tangent and coin a phrase that Kurt will never forget for as long as he lives about how Blaine will always understand and never throw terrible events back into his face, but he can’t find the words.  Instead he simply says, “I’m really sorry you’re such an asshole magnet.”

“Well…” Kurt raises his eyebrows and laughs.  “Two, please.”  He says to the hostess.

“You know what I mean, Kurt.  I’m serious!”  Blaine looks at him again as he tries to personify anger, scowling at the very thought of Oliver or Eddie or anyone else that he might have dated without Blaine around.  It’s like poor Kurt is destined to only have his heart broken by all these guys, himself included.  He sighs and leads by way of the small of Kurt’s back to follow the hostess to their table.

They sit and graciously take the menus from the restaurant staff without opening them.  “That’s not necessarily true, though.  I think the people I’ve dated that weren’t supposed to be my life partner showed their true colors pretty quickly, and I’m not with them anymore for the simple reason that I’m supposed to be with you.  You… you’re an entirely different ball game.”

“Another sports reference.  I don’t even know what to do with you!”

Kurt shrugs and tilts his head, reeling Blaine back into the seriousness of the conversation.  “Shut up, this is important.”

“Sorry.”  Blaine mumbles the word, almost like he’s twelve and being reprimanded by a teacher.  

“Does this feel like a turning point for us?  It’s like my whole life is about to change.  I feel different… like we’re driving west already, why can’t we just keep going until we get to San Francisco?  Make it home for a while.”

Blaine clasps his own hands together on the top of the menu and tilts his head.  “This is a new topic of discussion.”

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Me too, but I can’t ask you to move across the country for me again.”

“Hey, you didn’t.  I just feel like if we’re going to do this again we need to do it a hundred percent.  I’m very uneasy at the thought of a long distance relationship, and honestly I don’t think either of us can be strong enough for something as crazy as California to New York, or Ohio depending where I’d go next.”

“Are we doing this again?”

“I would like to, if you think… if you’ll have me?”

“Do you need like, a break in between?  Time alone before you’re intensely committed to someone?  Because once I get you back, I’m never letting go and you’re never allowed to have a break again.”

“Possessive _and_ cute!  What a catch.”

“ _Kurt_.”

“Okay.  Serious conversation with my Blainers.”

A roll of the eyes and a swift kick under the table to Kurt’s shin has him gasping and squealing in surprise.  

“And what if I said, and please don’t fucking take this the wrong way, but I think you forget that I only have six months of school left.  What if you waited it out here or in New York for me and then we can start fresh?  Not that I’m not receptive to needing you in California with me all the time, but I think that we can handle six months if we need to.  We’ve both matured, yeah?”

“A valid point.  That sounds like a solid plan, as long as you promise to come home at least three times this semester.”

At that, a cute girl who’s so obviously in high school introduces herself as their waitress and asks for a drink order.  When she disappears, Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and rubs his thumb across Kurt’s knuckles.

“Of course, and then… forever.”

“No one has forever.  I want every second of every day for the rest of my life… with you.  You’re all I get and I want to make sure you know just how special this is to me.”

“You have to know I feel the same way.”  Tears pool in his eyes as he is overcome with emotion and finality.  “Jesus.”  He smiles at Kurt as he leans over and wipes tears, pressing a kiss to his mouth and allowing lips to linger.  “You made my eyes leak.  I’m allergic to cheesy confessions and non-proposals that still kind of feel that way even if we’re in the Fort Wayne Olive Garden.”

He knows that he wants Kurt forever; he has since he realized that Kurt truly loves him despite the pizza sauce squirting out of his mouth on his lunch break at the Lima Bean nearly six years ago.  They had talked about their futures linking together and happily spending their lives attached in all aspects of the word, always figuring that it would come up again some other time when they seriously needed to address it.  To know something is a separate experience to _feeling_ something and Blaine’s mind is blown.  Up until today, he couldn’t clearly see their future as if it’s a scene in a movie playing only for his eyes and suddenly, in this run-down, mediocre restaurant in the dead center of the Midwest, he stares at Kurt and finally understands the meaning of life, of living, of unconditional love because he finally has a place in Kurt’s heart to store it once again and forever.   

“You are, as usual, incorrigible, Blaine Anderson.  Now, no more kissing because Indiana is not San Francisco and it is definitely not New York.”

“ _You_ kissed me!”

“You let it happen!”

Blaine laughs.  “Oh yes, because I’ve always been able to resist your kisses.  No, Kurt… stop kissing me!”  He flails his arms a little bit for effect and stops, blushing when he hits the waitress in the face.  “Oh my God!  Shit!  Are you okay?”

Kurt’s already up and dabbing her arm where there’s spilled soda draped all the way down her uniform.

“It’s okay, really.  I’ve had worse.”  She performs a tight smile.  “I’ll be right back with new drinks.  I’m sorry!”  She scurries away, clearly having a terrible day but trying not to let it show too much.

“Blaine!”

“It was an accident!”  He says with wide eyes.  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll tip her really well.  Promise.”

“Decide what you want to eat, please.”  Kurt shakes his head and opens the menu wide, successfully hiding from Blaine’s glances.  Naturally, Blaine groans, sending Kurt into a fit of giggles.  He drops the menu flat on the table.  “Is this what my whole life is going to be from now on?  A slew of crippled waiters we leave in our wake and lame excuse for Italian food everywhere we go?  Breadstix was kind of our thing, and I suppose that’s fine because at least it’s not a chain… and I know this wasn’t the only option, although it could have been outside of McDonalds or something super Ohio-ey…” Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine and picks up the menu again, clearly using it as a shield.

Blaine allows Kurt to ramble, knowing full well that it’s better to just allow him to have his moment on the soapbox.  When he’s finished, Blaine cups his own head in the palm of his hand and leans his elbow against the table, staring at the outside cover of Kurt’s menu.  “I love you.”

“Me too.  A lot.”

Blaine taps out a rhythm against Kurt’s menu, flicking it in a beat he’s making up as he goes along.  “You’re going to get so sick of the constant I love yous and the I can’t live without yous.  I’m gonna be the most…” _Flick_. “Annoying…” _Flick_. “Boyfriend..” _Flick_.  “Ever.”

“Already are.”  Kurt sings his response.  He’s teasing Blaine to his very core.

“Six months doesn’t really feel like a long time in theory.  But I’ll probably hate it in the moment.”  Blaine ponders and pushes the menu down toward Kurt’s face hard so he can see him again.  

Kurt sputters at a mouthful of dirty menu but smiles at Blaine’s playful smirk.  “Seriously, Blaine?  What the hell is wrong with you?”  He’s smiling, no bite to his words at all.

“I missed your face.”  The smile on his face radiates, lighting the room over and over again.  “What?  I’m just so relieved that I’m finally here with you and there is no Oliver for miles and…” He drops his voice to a whisper.  “Babe, we had sex and it was really great.  Um, at least while it was just you and me.  You’re really great and I love you so much.”  

“ _Blaine_.”  Kurt’s eyes are resonating the love that Blaine’s been trying to find since leaving him and he can’t believe that all it took was drawing out a large circle in the shape of across-the-country to figure this out. 

“You’re this core in my life and I’m just… like, orbiting around you like it’s all I’ve ever been destined to do.”  Blaine gestures circles with his hands.  “I have no idea, like I had to circle my way back to you and maybe I took the long way but at least I’m here now, right?”

“It’s really all that matters.”  Kurt cackles in a way that showcases how one could be incredibly sexy and adorable in the same moment and makes a show out of grabbing both of Blaine’s wrists to still them as the girl comes back with new drinks.  She giggles and takes their soup and endless salad order and leaves them to more conversation.  

They speak of everything and nothing at the same time as they wait for the first course, reminiscing of the good old days and predicting the perfection of the future.  A heaping bowl of salad to share appears quickly and they eat it silently, comfortably, calmly.  There are quick glances and shy smiles as Blaine picks out his olives and Kurt his peppers, and it seems as though no time at all has passed since Blaine irrationally believed it would be best for them to just up and leave.  

Their soup is less than stellar, but Blaine’s not sure what they could have possibly expected, and they choke it down if only for its nourishment.  He throws down a fifty-dollar bill for their twenty-dollar meal and extends his hand to Kurt, leading him up and out of the building.

“I’m going to call my dad before we get going again.  I should see if Oliver is still there.”  Kurt is fiddling with his cell phone in a way that he does only when he’s nervous or doesn’t want to call.

Blaine shouldn’t be so understanding, especially about this, but for whatever reason he only nods and gets into the car, waiting patiently for Kurt to join him again.  He turns the key in the ignition and shuffles his Spotify app, attempting a perfect song for exactly how he feels in this moment but nothing seems to stick.  He settles for whatever’s on the radio and drums his fingers along to the beat of the song, waiting and trying to not listen to the words coming out of Kurt’s mouth as he paces back and forth on the side of the car.

When he slips into the passenger seat, though, there’s something wrong.

“Everything good?”

“Yep.”  Kurt exhales.  “He’s still there and driving my father crazy.”

“Kid doesn’t take a hint, huh?”  Blaine holds the back of Kurt’s seat and twists to back out of the spot they’re parked in, ruffles his hair a bit, then shifts into “drive” and starts their journey home.  “I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this.  Are you sure that you’re ready to jump into this thing with me again?  I mean, right away?”

“Not everything’s about you, my love.”  Kurt smiles and tries to fix his hair but winds up ruffling it even more.  “Does it look like I just had sex?”

“God, Kurt.  It’s actually like I’m on the top of the world with you.”

“Careful, you’re teetering on cheesy again.”  After a beat, Kurt says more.  “We have to go home and deal with my ex-boyfriend, B.”

“I guess, but only because I love you desperately and couldn’t stop if I tried.”

“Cheese!”  But Kurt is grinning, seemingly having forgotten that they need to face Lima at all.  “Seriously, though.  It means the world to me that you’re putting up with me even through all this crazy, teenage drama.”

“What else am I supposed to do, pretty? Nothing else will get me you in the end, so I really have no choice but to wait as long as it takes.  Besides, the drama we got through together when I was a teenager was so much more than this.  If we can handle that, surely we can get through this.”

“Well, it’s not fair to you, yet you’re sticking around and I recognize that.  I owe you.”

The remainder of the ride back from Fort Wayne’s premiere Italian restaurant feels like a full day of driving for Blaine, but that may be because he’s anxious to walk into Burt’s house hand-in-hand with Kurt, only to face a pained man by way of Oliver Ellington.

When they do finally pull into the driveway, Blaine cuts the engine and stares up at the house, hugging his arms around the steering wheel, knowing full well that Kurt is silently going through what he needs to say to Oliver.

“I think I’m going to stay out here while you…”

“Blaine, I need you.”

“I know, baby, but do you realize that I just want to kill him?  I’m not sure how that factors in for both of our futures.”

“Focus on me.  We’ll just make sure he leaves and get back to us.”

Blaine gets out of the car and rushes to open Kurt’s door, nodding confidently at him.  “We don’t have to tell him about any… happenings between us, do we?  But can we make it official before we go in there?”

“Blaine, what are you-”

“‘Boyfriend’ isn’t the correct term for the way I feel about you, but for a label’s sake:  will you be my boyfriend, Kurt?”

Kurt’s eyes are shining again but he quickly and eloquently answers with only the most perfect of words.  “Yes, of course.  This pinky-swear is for real this time though, punk.”  Kurt holds his pinky to Blaine’s face expectedly and raises an eyebrow.

Blaine laughs as he connects his pinky to Kurt’s and shakes on it.  “I promise.”  Keeping them attached, he leans in and smashes his lips to steal only one strong kiss before Kurt has to go in and face his own music.

Burt, of course, catches the lip lock just as he opens the door and Blaine can see him from the corner of his eye, scowling and chewing on a disposable coffee stirrer, clearly from the Lima Bean.

“Burt is about to attack.”  Blaine says against Kurt’s lips before dragging his body a good ten feet away from Kurt, shoving his hands in his pocket and kicking at the grass below his toes.

“Are you two back together, then?”

“I don’t know if we were ever truly apart, Dad.”

“Well, I hope you mean that figuratively because it was proving pretty difficult to peel either of you off your respective bathroom floors and I was getting tired of flying across the country more than a few times to do so.  So you two best know what you’re doing.”

Kurt and Blaine lock shy eyes and mirror a stricken, sad smile, not allowing anyone or anything to get in their way until the patio door above them is slammed and Oliver charges toward Kurt.

“Not cool, Kurt.  You just up and leave like a child when we are having an adult conversation?”  He’s nose-to-nose with Kurt now, as Blaine watches closely, opening and closing his fists and swaying from the sheer frustration of it all.

“Oli.”  Kurt breaks the wordless sorry-fest with Blaine, stepping backward a few steps, but Oliver just torments him by getting right back into his face.  “Oliver, stop.  Blaine and my dad will step in if things get physical.  I know you’re mad, but I needed space after the things you said, and I just needed to get out.  You were too busy saying really shitty-”

Blaine zones out now; it’s taking every single thing in him to not get fired up and beat the living shit out of this guy.  He starts a curved pace, almost like a shield behind Kurt as though he needs padding to protect himself, as if he’s not positively the strongest person Blaine has ever met.  Blaine’s inner monologue is jumbled; he doesn’t even know how to think right with Oliver towering over Kurt in a possessive, overly jealous stance.  Blaine feels like he is the cheetah and Oliver is the meerkat who’s annoying but almost too easy to kill.  This won’t end well if he keeps thinking this way, so he does what he’s told and focuses on Kurt.  When Kurt takes another step back though, and Oliver steps further into his space, the string holding Blaine’s body back snaps and he forces himself into the tiny space between the two men.  

He absently feels Kurt’s hands around his waist, squeezing and holding him back.

“Do not.  I get you need to say whatever hurtful words that need to be out of your mouth but there is a way to do that without getting in his face.  You’re what we call a bully here in America, and if you can’t fucking understand that, then you need to go back to jolly ol’ England and figure it out for yourself.”

“Oh whatever, asshole.  At least he can’t be arrested for fucking me!”

“Okay.”  Utterly shocked beyond his wildest expectations, Blaine turns around to look at Kurt in the eye.  “He went there, he really actually went there, and in front of your father nonetheless.  Permission to knock him out, please?”

“Focus on me, babe.  Like I said.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Blaine.  You wouldn’t want yet another ankle bracelet, would you?  Probation and a small radius of places you’re allowed?  I know all about you, lover boy, and you don’t deserve Kurt in the slightest.”  And it’s true; Blaine knows he doesn’t deserve Kurt at all but somehow, Kurt’s chosen him.  He focuses to not fuck it up.  

Oliver knows all about him, at least enough to make his heart pang.  Blaine’s eyes are wide, mimicking Kurt’s dumbfounded expression, only focusing on each other so Oliver doesn’t get murdered this instant.

“You told him about everything.”

“That’s all, just enough to understand… I just said that it was better you were on probation so we couldn’t get distracted with places in the beginning, just each other.  He’s throwing it all back in my face now, like he did with the attack and like he did with Finn.”

“You’re so vain, Anderson!  We don’t sit around and discuss your mishaps.  We spend our time together thinking about our future and talking about next steps.  And we have so much sex, it would even tire your teenage ass out.”

The voice of reason comes through as it is there all along.  “Baby, he’s just provoking you.  He wants you to hit him.  Don’t give him the satisfaction.  Keep your eyes on me.”  They stare at each other listlessly as time stops, shaking out of it after only a few seconds.  “And for you, Oliver Ellington.  You are so out of line, here… coming here essentially uninvited and causing drama on a holiday that’s already hard for me without my mother and brother to share it with.  You are to go upstairs, get your shit, and never come back here or to anywhere I might be in New York.  This includes my apartment, Blaine’s apartment, the Lima Bean, the fucking 1 train.  I see you anywhere near me here or anywhere else in the world and I will be reporting your ass to Immigration.  My father will see to it that you don’t steal anything while you are gathering your bags.”

“Let’s go.”  Burt stares at Kurt and Blaine then shifts his eyes to Oliver.  “After you, asswipe.”

“Oh my God.  Your dad just-”

“Kiss me.”  Kurt jumps into Blaine’s arms and wraps his legs around his waist.  Clearly not expecting it, Blaine’s knees buckle and they’re sent plummeting to the snowy, freezing grass below them but mouths connected the whole way down.

They lie together, kissing in the yard, for upwards of fifteen minutes while Oliver is upstairs, too busy disappearing for him to notice the clear public displays of affection.  A cab pulls into the driveway and beeps, startling both Kurt and Blaine until Blaine’s actually on Kurt’s lap in the grass.  

“Sir Ellington’s chariot awaits.”  Blaine kisses Kurt again, better than any Brit.  “We’re being very irresponsible right now, Hummel.  Does Oliver Twist even have any American dollars on him?  Enough to get to Columbus or even New York?”

“Who cares?”

“We brought him here, pretty.  The least we could do is send him home properly.  Karma, Kurt.”

“You are so selfless, even to people who are malicious to you.  What happened to the tough guy seventeen-year-old who flinched when I touched him?”

“You showed him what it was like to be cared for, and now he’s gone soft.”

“I hardly believe he’s gone _soft_.”  Kurt tugs at Blaine’s half-hard cock only for a second.  “Maybe he just let his guard down with reason?”

“Possibly.”  Blaine explodes upright so he’s standing over Kurt, bent at the hip.  He cups his face and lays one last kiss on Kurt’s lips just as Oliver and Burt come rushing outside.

Oliver death glares at them both but Blaine’s hand is already a fistful of his wallet.  He opens it and takes out five twenties, folds them together, and extends his arm to hand Oliver the money.  “The least we could do.  I’m sorry it wound up like this.”

“I’m onto you, Blaine Anderson.”  Oliver clearly makes it a point to not take the offered money.

“Don’t you dare-”

“Kurt, drop it.  Let’s go inside, I’m cold.”  Blaine focuses on getting inside with Kurt in tow and no one venturing over to the county jail.

“What, Anderson?  You don’t want to hear the story about how I researched you after Kurt told me about his stupid attack?  Daddy issues, much?”

“Get in the taxi and drive away.”

Burt pushes and slams Oliver against the taxi using the balls of fury in his fists that he must save for only special occasions.  “You so much whisper their names at any time in the future, and I will know about it, and that will become your biggest regret.”  Burt pushes his head against the car again and turns on his heel, not having to tell Kurt and Blaine to follow like his own personal shadows, sewed on by his ankles.  They’re right behind him obediently.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**   
**Songs Used in this Chapter:**   
**Sara Bareilles – I Choose You**   
**A Great Big World – This is the New Year**

Blaine flounders to the couch in a dramatic drop, complete with an overturned palm across his eyes and a sigh to ruffle the waves off the shores of Japan.  “Is it smart to get a restraining order?  Just in case?”  

Kurt runs his fingers through his hair, seemingly messing it up and giving no less than two shits.  He takes a step to approach Blaine, but Blaine flinches. 

“Shit, Kurt.  Come here, sorry.  I’m on edge.”  He leans up to grab at Kurt’s waist and squeezes, pulling him down onto the couch.  Kurt falls virtually on top of him and Blaine snuggles into Kurt’s collarbone, still hugging him from the side.  Kurt kisses his hair and lets his lips linger long enough for the message to be construed the correct way.  He drapes one arm over Blaine’s shoulders and the other gets tangled with where Blaine’s clasped his hands at Kurt’s hip.  

“I’m sorry, B.”

“Shhhhhh.  We’re done with him, okay?”

“Forever.”

“Let’s discuss restraining orders.  I don’t want you to get hurt if he decides to find you and do something crazy.”

“I don’t think any of it will matter when we’re in San Francisco.”

“What happened to our ‘we can make it for six months’ optimism we had in Fort Wayne?”

“Oh, okay.  You were serious, then.”

“Guys.  Please, whatever you’re planning on, please get a restraining order.  This dude knows you go to Berkeley.  He can easily figure out where you live and your schedule.  If Kurt’s alone while you’re at class…” Burt trails off.  He doesn’t need to say it; it’s better left unsaid.  

“No, Dad.  Blaine doesn’t want me in San Francisco.  I’ll be fine here in Lima for the rest of my life, where I am apparently destined to be.”  He breaks away, pushing Blaine off him so he can stand and ultimately head upstairs.

“Dammit.”  Blaine’s words echo as Kurt disappears, huffing and puffing the whole way.  Blaine looks to Burt for help and when he can only shrug, Blaine scoffs.  “There is so much god damned drama and it all stems from all these fucking obstacles that are only put in our way to weaken us.  First my father, now Oliver…  I can’t take it anymore.  When can we just live happily ever after?”  Poor Blaine is snapping; he can feel his branches bending in the wind.  His fingers are the leaves, grazing the ground until one bolt of lightning beats him to the punch, ruining everything, and suddenly he’s forever broken.

“You can either let it eat you alive or grow from it, kid.  Now, you just worked for almost a year to get Kurt back in your life the way you’ve wanted him since you were seventeen.  Are you really going to let drama ruin that for you… again?”  Burt crosses the room and sits next to him.  “Kurt told me that he noticed that you matured a ton while you two were across the country.  Twenty-year-old Blaine might have let all of this get the best of him, but what about now?”

Why couldn’t everyone’s father be like Burt Hummel?

“I’m just giving him a minute before I go hug the hell out of him.”

Burt laughs, full on shaking his shoulders and slinging his head to and fro.  “Oh, Blaine.  He doesn’t need a minute, not from you.  How have you not seen that you’re his glue?”

“He’s mine.  I love him.”

“The sky’s blue.”

“He’s gonna yell at me.”

“Give yourself some credit.  He’ll be fine.”

“Of course I want him in California, but I didn’t want to uproot his life if we decide to move again in six months.  I’m trying to make this whole thing easy for once and it’s fucking backfiring.”

“So why are you sitting down here telling me?  Use your words, Anderson.”

Blaine can only look at his pseudo-dad before racing up the stairs, following in Kurt’s footsteps.

The bedroom door is not closed, as if Kurt knows Blaine is going to follow him, but the bed is still ruffled and dirty from their time in it with Oliver.  Kurt is working diligently and frantically to remove the twisted sheets but it’s proven rather difficult in the midst of his break down.  “Kurt?”

He looks up, almost like he’s in a deep enough trance to not have recognized Blaine’s voice.  His facial expression softens when they make eye contact, but he quickly goes back to ripping at the sheets, unfathomably attached to the mattress by some ungodly force of nature.  Blaine walks around to the affected corner and slips it off, thus sending Kurt (still pulling at full force) stumbling backward and slamming into the wall.  He effortlessly slides down against the sheetrock, tainting his body with stains of dried come and life lived within sin as he buries his face in the dirty sheets wrapped tightly around his wrists.  He whispers, “Oh God.  Fucking failure.”

“Kurt.”  Blaine throws his hands up and allows them to crash back down on his thighs.  “Want me to list the ways you’ve succeeded in your life?  Loving me the way you keep telling me I deserve.  Literally sharing your family with me when I had no one else to turn to.  Introducing me to all of your friends when I didn’t have anyone to call my own.  Escaping Eddie and Oliver and high school and Ohio.  Educating yourself on things you wanted to know about.  Remember how you said… do you remember that morning I was getting ready to go to court and you said that I was Santana’s success story?  You’re wrong.  I’m _your_ success story.”

“Everyone else ruined me, ruined my whole life and how I think about myself.”

“How could you say that, baby?  I like to think that your life is better than it could have been because of us.  You changed _me_ for the better… you changed my life, Kurt, and I’m not about to let the drama drown us when we’ve survived it so many times before.  Don’t you know what that means?  We are a force to be reckoned with and I fucking dare anyone to stop us.  You’re the only good in my life, pretty, and I won’t stand for you constantly blaming yourself for the obstacles we have to fight over together.  That’s just… life.  You need to stop wallowing in all the negativity and just… be with me.”

Kurt lifts his head by way of reaction and stares at Blaine, heavily panting and hovering over him.

“I’m not going to stop you from moving to be with me if that’s what you want.  I was just trying to save you the hassle because I don’t know where we’ll be after I graduate and I don’t want to expect that you’ll just… follow me anywhere.  You are…”  He kneels down in front of Kurt and cups his hands on his lover’s cheeks.  “The bed in San Francisco is so empty without you, Kurt.  You can come back to California with me; I am so onboard with that idea.  But please, we can handle it if you decide to live here for a while, and honestly for your own sanity, I think that’s what you should do.  We can do long distance for a while and then we can laugh about it for the next seventy years.  You need time to recoup, I think, and this could be perfect.  Yeah?”  He pulls at the neck of Kurt’s shirt so he can molest his mouth for only a few seconds before he jumps back up.

“Now, let me help you with the laundry because the sooner it gets in there, the sooner we can go to sleep.”  Blaine gently pries the sheets and comforter from Kurt’s grasp and balls it up.  He stuffs it all into the otherwise empty laundry basket and looks back to Kurt who’s still lolled against the wall on the floor.  “You’re the strongest person I know, and I know you may be having a lot of mixed feelings about this breakup with Oliver, because you’re a good person, and maybe you’re as scared as I am to be apart from one another the next few months, but I promise you that this time, everything is going to be alright.  We can get through this.  For now, though, the least you can do is get up and come help me with this laundry, pretty.  Get up here.”  He tucks the flimsy basket under his left arm and holds out his right to help Kurt up.  

“Tough love.”  Kurt takes his hand and launches himself up.

“Whatever kind of love that will stop you from blaming yourself for stuff that would have happened anyway.”  Blaine drops the laundry basket to the side of his feet and pulls Kurt in for a massive bear hug, their hipbones meeting first and each body rolling up until their chests are also connected.  “I would take ten thousand throws down the stairs and forty billion broken and bruised ribs to be allowed to call you mine.  You understand?”

“I would, too.”

“I know you would, but I would never make you do that.  Not to sound really inconsiderate or anything, but I wish sometimes that I had never met you but only because then I could have spared all of that pain and hate from your life and I want to shelter you the best way I know how because no one deserves what you went through for me, and especially you.”

“Not all of it.  I love you, B.”

Blaine knows; he’ll always know, now.  He bends to pick the laundry back up and pushes Kurt in front of him to lead the way to the laundry room.  “I know you do, and I love you too.  Always.”

They stand in the middle of the laundry room downstairs, adhered to each other from the inside out, and when the end of the cycle startles them both a half hour later, they switch to the dryer and continue to wait, wordlessly but fearlessly as though they’re right at the cusp of a new beginning.

**xK &Bx**

At some point, Kurt breaks the uninspiring thoughts swirling around in his head.  Eyes focusing on the counter-clockwise motion of the sheets drying in front of him, he vocalizes his opinion on what should come next.  

“You should go back to San Francisco alone.”

He watches as Blaine looks up from his phone.

“Kurt.  I didn’t mean to shake your confidence in us.”  He takes Kurt’s hand between both of his.  “You would really like it out there.  Golden Gate Park is my favorite place and it’d be even better with you.  I’m just saying that it would be such a hassle to be there for a few months.  What if we hate it out there together?  You’ve already moved for me once, and I’m trying to remain unselfish.  As much as I want you out there, I want you to make your own decisions about your life.”

“My decision doesn’t really have much to do with your earlier suggestion, honey.  I need to be by myself for a while, physically anyway.  You were right.”  As the words spew out of his mouth, he can’t find it in his heart to believe them.  This has everything to do with the fact that Blaine obviously doesn’t want him in San Francisco.  Although the realization stings, six months is a lot shorter than two years apart.  They’ll survive it; they have to.  There’s no longer an option in the matter.

“Are you sure?”

When Kurt pointedly doesn’t bite on a reply, Blaine continues.  “I’ll miss you, you know.  It’s going to be really hard to know we’re together and away from each other.  We’ve never done that before.”

“First time for everything.  We’ll be fine.  We don’t have a choice this time.  Right?”

“You are correct, boyfriend.”  Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and tugs him in close.  They stay there together, listening to the run-around of the sheets getting all sorts of tangled in the dryer.  “You know, we don’t have to stand here and wait.  Let’s go watch TV or something.”

“We only have a few days left together, wanna stay connected to you.”

“Wanky.”

Kurt peels his cheek off Blaine’s shoulder to look him in the eye.  “You’re not allowed to hang out with Santana anymore.”

“Don’t worry.  I live across the country.  It’ll soon resort back to phone calls once a week.”

Kurt’s face falls.  “It won’t be that way for us, will it?”

“Baby, no.  I’m going to be on the phone with you every second I get.  And we’ll Skype, and I’ll come home as much as I can.  You must know you’re different than Santana, right?”

“I keep second-guessing all of this.”

“Us?”

“Just that we should spend some time apart.”

Kurt allows Blaine to lead him into the living room and onto the couch.  “I might be gone for a few weeks at a time, but I promise I’m always be with you.  We’re gonna survive this just like we survived everything else, okay?”

“We hardly survived the one thing, B.”

“But we’re here, aren’t we?”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.  I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on who Oliver was.  I’m sorry I fucked you over and tried to keep everyone happy.  I’m sorry I’m so fucked up.”  Kurt inhales.  

“It’s okay, pretty.  Don’t beat yourself up over it.  I should have realized it all sooner.  I should have called you out.”  Blaine leans in and presses his lips to Kurt’s ever so lightly; he’s kissing away the pain.  “Normal has never been our thing, has it?”

Kurt allows himself to smile and rolls his eyes.  “I’ll miss you.”

“I have a question for you.”

“What?”

“When our kids ask us how long we’ve been together, what should we say?  I mean, I don’t even know our anniversary.”

Kurt laughs; he’s not sure how he keeps falling deeper in love with Blaine.  At some point, he has to stop, right? “Let’s have two anniversary months.  September and December.”

“My birthday and your birthday.”

“We got together on your birthday the first time, and I like to think we were together on my birthday this time.”

“Deal.  Love you, pretty.”

“Mmmmm, you better.  It’s all that keeps me going.”

**xK &Bx**

The next few days pass quickly.  It’s like they pick up right where they left off and for a few hours at a time, Kurt hardly remembers Blaine has to leave again so soon and for so long, or that he was ever gone.

The Friday before Blaine goes back to school is spent at the Lima Bean as the days are preceding it; Julie is still not back from her tropical vacation, so Kurt and Blaine throw themselves back into the routine of how life used to be in Ohio.  

There are take-out dinners from Breadstix, Blaine’s refusal to wear his uniform the right way, and endless cups of coffee and croissants.  After a few days, they rearrange the schedule so that Blaine and Kurt are the only two employees to close and as soon as the door is locked, they bring back other routines from the early days too.  

**xK &Bx**

Blaine watches Kurt shake his hips a little too dramatically as he walks to the front door and locks it with a flick of a wrist.  His body stays facing the door but he looks over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.  To Blaine, it all feels like the beginning of an incredibly cheesy porno.  He laughs.

“Stop that, Kurt.  It’s too much.  It’s not authentic.  Cut!”

“Stop what?  Do you know where this is headed?”

“The health department is going to shut your ass down.  They are going to come in here with a damn clipboard one morning and find my come streaked across the counter.  And then what, huh?  Kurt, it’s not even seven o’clock.  Is it even legal to close without letting anyone know?”

Kurt only shrugs.

Blaine shakes his head and grins at Kurt.  “Okay.  Whatever.  You better hope those assholes don’t have a black light though.  I hear the fines for being less than sterile are pretty hefty and I’m all out of cash to pay for our sexual escapades.”

“You never paid-”

“My budget is zero, Hummel.”

Kurt looks beautiful as he turns and approaches Blaine again.  The moonlight bounces off his hair, producing shooting stars in the shape of a halo.  Blaine tilts his head, crooked on its axis, as he watches Kurt come back to him.  He reaches out his hands and pulls him close as soon as he’s within reach.  

Kurt molests his face, licking the inside of his cheeks as he wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck and crosses his wrists.  “Your budget for sex is zero?”  Kurt’s lips brush against Blaine’s with every word.

“Uh huh.”

“What if I told you that I became a prostitute while we were broken up?”

Blaine laughs and kisses him again, this time with more power behind his lips.  “You didn’t.”

“But what if I did?  My pimp bought me these gold spandex shorts and a mesh shirt and he throws me out on the corner for hours at a time.”  Kurt pulls away and looks Blaine in the eye, a glint of a smile right beneath his skin.  “It’s a very lucrative business, B.”  He _winks_.

Blaine subconsciously licks his lips at the thought of Kurt’s legs on display like that.  “You wouldn’t charge me for it.  Not when I’ve already had you in every position I would ever want.”

“Are you saying I don’t have a price tag?  I’m just a worthless hooker at your disposal for the hour you’ve paid for?”

“Priceless.  There’s not enough money in the world.”

“Awww.”

“Yeah, awww.”  Blaine mocks Kurt’s voice and grins.  “There are several fifties coming your way so long you make _me_ come quickly and efficiently.”

“God, Blaine.”

“You started it.”  He steps back, taking in Kurt’s body all over again.  “I can’t believe you’re mine.”  He starts to strip his apron and shirt off, throwing them aside.  He unbuttons his jeans and looks up to Kurt with hooded eyes.  

Kurt smiles and strips his own shirt and folds it over a chair.  “Are you…”

“Only if you want to.”  Blaine approaches him again and hugs him tight; they’re chest-to-chest and it’s a feeling that he’ll never get used to.  Skin to skin with Kurt will always be a life-altering experience.

_I am not scared of the elements_   
_I am under-prepared, but I am willing_   
_And even better, I get to be the other half of you_

Kurt squirms to get out of Blaine’s hold, leading them both over to the countertop.  “Sit.”

“Kurt, that’s even more dirty than-”

“Get up there.”  Kurt steps into Blaine’s personal space and curves his hands around Blaine’s hips as Blaine launches himself up onto the counter.  Kurt pulls Blaine’s shoes off, one at a time, and then slips his pants down and off as well.

It all happens so quickly.  Kurt has ripped off Blaine’s boxers and inserted two fingers into his asshole, all within a matter of seconds.  It’s urgent, needy, stressful to be seated and taller than Kurt as he writhes against the counter in an effort to produce the best angle.  He’s leaning completely on the balls of his wrists and it’s becoming painful to support one hundred and thirty-five pounds of himself.  Each thrust in and rotation and pull out burns less in time as he gets used to Kurt’s new pace.  It feels dirty, like he’s just some toy for Kurt today, and he’s already so close to being done with two fingers inside.  When Kurt scissors, he hits Blaine’s prostate and stays on it with an intense pressure.  Kurt’s fingernail feels like it’s going to puncture the little, black balloon inside of him so much so that just the thought of it unexpectedly puts Blaine over the edge.  He groans and his elbows give out until he’s lying flat on his back, his shoulders and head fallen backwards and upside down inches away from the side of the espresso machine.

He stays right where he is, counting the tiles on the ceiling until he can breathe normally again.  He picks his head up and leans up on his elbows just in time to catch a glimpse of the top of Kurt’s head before he slouches under the counter and captures Blaine’s nearly soft cock in his mouth.  “Ungggg, Kurt.”  He’s so sensitive and he’s sure that Kurt Hummel is going to be the death of him.

Kurt doesn’t let up, mercilessly sucking on Blaine’s cock.  Kurt inserts his tongue into the slit as if he’s rimming it and Blaine thrashes his legs and kicks his feet until his Achilles’ heel feels broken and raw against the slab of wood beneath the counter.  “Kurt, please.  I can’t.”

Kurt backs off and takes his cock in his hands, jerking it off without any tenderness whatsoever.  It’s like some kinky force replaces the gentle touch of Kurt’s fingers.  

“Kurt.  Fuck, shit!  Kurt!  Go gentle, you’re _breaking_ me.”

Kurt looks up at him and slows his pace, still clearly with determination to get him hard again.  It seems to be working, now more than ever, as Kurt lightens his grip and thrives only from the love behind the act and not so much the act itself.  

When he’s fully hard again, Blaine sits up and stares at Kurt.  “Pretty?  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Why?”

“Are you serious?  You were two seconds from ripping my cock off and having it for dinner.”

“Want you for dinner.  Come down here and turn over.”  Kurt tugs at his wrists until he’s flailing, flying off the counter and catching himself over his feet to stop from tripping and busting a lip on the floor.  Kurt turns him and pushes the back of his head until he’s kissing the countertop.  He takes Blaine’s wrists and ties them together with Blaine’s very own apron so they rest above his head, stretched out and strained across the surface.

Kurt slams in three fingers to shamelessly plug Blaine’s hole then wiggles them so Blaine can absolutely feel it.  Although Blaine’s body is reacting in a way that is to be expected, he’s growing his worry almost to a point of it being visible because Kurt is clearly out of control and too rough right now.  He turns his neck so his cheek is resting on the freezing granite and swallows.

“Kurt.”  He goes to straighten his body but it’s then that he realizes he’s tied around each ankle with honest-to-God rope, adhering him to the bakery case and espresso machine.  He thrashes his hands, and they are virtually immobile, having been hooked around something under the counter.  “Kurt, stop.  Wait, I don’t want…” He thrashes his limbs again, trying desperately to grasp Kurt’s attention.  “Kurt!”

Kurt steps back then mimics Blaine’s stance, but lying his left cheek on the counter so he can face Blaine.  “Hi.”

“Babe, I need you to let me go.  I don’t think we should-”

Kurt kisses him on the nose and smiles.  “I love you. You look so…”

“Me too, of course… me too but Kurt…”

“I want you to feel it.  Want you to feel me for days.”

“I can do that without my legs being-”

“Then maybe you won’t want to leave me.  We can stay here and fuck and make out like teenagers, and run a business together.  Like the good ol’ days.”  

“That’s what this is about?  Pretty, baby… come on, untie me.”

“You don’t want me?”

“Of course I… Kurt!  God dammit, fucking untie me now!”  He hysterically pulls on the ropes and apron as if he has the power to make them disintegrate.  “Fucking shit, Hummel.  Let me go.”  

Kurt kneels down to Blaine’s left foot and stills it by holding his ankle.  He unties it quickly then unties the right one.  

Blaine explodes upright and pulls on his wrists until Kurt unties them properly.  “What the hell, Kurt?  You need to ask before you make someone completely useless.  What the fuck is your problem?  Jesus.”  He finds his jeans and hops into them, wobbly and crooked.  He cards through his hair and stares at Kurt.  “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing, forget it.”  Kurt throws his clothes back on and rushes to the back office.

Blaine watches him disappear, gives himself exactly sixty seconds to calm down, then traces Kurt’s footsteps to his desk.

He wants to be mad beyond belief at his boyfriend but when he peeks inside the office, the scene in front of him is pitiful.  “Kurt?”  His heart breaks in a million tiny pieces when he witnesses Kurt’s sobs into his elbow.  He looks thoroughly fucked, although they didn’t get that far, and his face is splotchy and red.  “So pretty when you cry.”  He kneels down in front of Kurt and guides Kurt’s hands away from his face.  “Please talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say, I fucked up.”

“Kurt.  Baby, we said that we’d work on our communication this time around.  Didn’t we?  What was that about?  That was a little extreme for us, don’t you think?  Is that something you want to explore more?”

“I just want to be remembered.”

“Remembered?  Remembered by who?”

“By you, you idiot!  You have all these… boys that you can call whenever you want in California, and I just want to be at the top of the list!  So when you go home and fuck them, you will still think of me.”

Blaine extends his neck in disbelief.  “You’re kidding.”  He stares at Kurt, who’s staring back at him, and he realizes it’s not a joke.  “Kurt.  Oh God, Kurt.”  He stands up and leans over to hug Kurt tightly; it’s a simple hug that showcases the fact that Blaine will never leave Kurt alone again, at least emotionally.  “Babe, the only reason why I ever started going out and seeking other men like that was because I couldn’t have you.  We were broken up…” Blaine pulls Kurt up so he’s standing.  “Are we officially boyfriends, Kurt?  Isn’t that something we agreed on already?”

“Yeah.  We are.”  Kurt looks to his shoes.

“Then why would I go back to San Francisco and cheat on you?  That part of my life is over because I have you.  Do you get that?”

“Am I going to be enough for you?  I don’t want to sit here and wonder.”

“I always wonder if I’m gonna be enough for you and it usually ends with me realizing that you wouldn’t stick around if you didn’t want me, right?  Am I enough for _you_?”

“You are.  You’ll always be.”

“I wouldn’t be here trying to convince you of all of this if I didn’t want you Kurt, or if you weren’t enough.  Actually, I feel like I don’t even deserve half of you.  It hurts, how much I love you.”

“Blaine.”  Kurt pulls back and goes to gather his things.  Clearly, they’re leaving now.  “We have to get to Friday night dinner.”

“Want me to drive?”

“Yeah.”  Kurt inhales and looks at Blaine.  “I’m so sorry.  Such an idiot.”

“Hey, we talked about it.  Now, we’re fine.  See?  Communication!”  Blaine holds out his hand for Kurt to take.  “I know we have to go now and all, but maybe later we can discuss these things in further detail.  It’s been a while since you’ve been in therapy.  Should we think of finding someone in Ohio now that you’re staying here a while?”

Kurt takes his hand, leading them both outside to the car.  “I’ve been playing with that idea lately.  I’ll do some real research when you go back to school.”  

Blaine can only nod; he will be here for Kurt regardless of what happens.  He’s clearly not mentally stable and Blaine will see to it that he finds himself in a better place.

In ten minutes flat, Blaine is already shutting the engine off and turning to look at Kurt.  “Kurt.  Since you’re thorough in your, um… prepping efforts.  Will you do something about it?  After dinner?”

“You leave tomorrow; of course I’m going to send you off properly.  If you’ll have me.”  Kurt smiles but it falls quickly.  “I’m sorry again, about before.  I know you say it’s no big deal because we’ve talked about it, but I shouldn’t have tried to use you like that, just for my own satisfaction.  I’ll make it up to you later?”

Blaine chews on his bottom lip and smiles around it.  “Love you.”  He gets out of the car and waits for Kurt to join him before he starts walking up the path.

**xK &Bx**

They sneak up on Burt and Carole, working seamlessly on dinner in silence.  Burt is putting all his might into the mashed potatoes, enough to feed an army, and Carole stares as though she’s looking through the George Foreman grill, lifting the cover every few seconds to reveal half-cooked meat kabobs.

“Oh my God, that smells so good.”  Blaine disconnects from Kurt and kisses Carole on the cheek.  “Kurt keeps feeding me croissants and honestly, I just can’t live off of that.”

“You had no problem in high school.”

“I am a grown man now, pretty!  I need meat; I’m a carnivore.”

Burt pauses taking out his frustration on potatoes to turn around and stare with his jaw open.  Kurt mimics the same face, except with a smirk, and Blaine blinks.

“What?”

Kurt smiles.  “You need meat, B?”

“You two are so fucking gay.”  Burt is grinning and shakes his head before he’s gone back to the potatoes.    

“Whatever.  These are things we already knew.”  Blaine crosses the room with an eye roll and starts to gather dishes and sodas to put on the table.

Kurt sits at the table, if only to act as a human obstacle Blaine needs to work around to place the settings.  “Dad, can I stick around for a few more months?”

“No, Carole and I were just discussing how much we hate having you around.”  Burt rolls his eyes.  “Of course, kid.  But what about New York?”

“New York is toxic.”  Blaine and Kurt say it together and so in sync, like it’s a rehearsed answer to a question they get every day.  

“New York was just a place I stayed put in because I figured Blaine still knew I was there.  Then that first year passed and I moved out of the condo because of Santana and the rest is history.”

“You lived in the condo for a year?”

“I figured you’d come back to me if you still knew my address.”

“Oh, Hummel.  I would have come back for you regardless.  I was just convinced you never wanted to see me again.”  Blaine kisses Kurt’s hair as he passes with a plate and goes to get a few glasses.  “We have lots to _communicate_ about later.  Without the parentals pretending they’re not listening.”  He smiles at Kurt and nudges at Carole’s hip as he passes her and sits next to Kurt, sliding the cups to the general vicinity they belong in.

“We’re just big fans.”  Burt says, by way of excuse.

“Huge fans.  Number one fans.”  Carole giggles and transfers the kabobs to a serving plate.  “Dinner is served, my boys.”

**xK &Bx**

“You’ll call as soon as you get back?”

“Hey.  This is only temporary, okay?  I’ll see you next month and then Spring Break and then graduation.  That’s it.”  Blaine kisses Kurt’s cheek, smiling into it.  He’s so much stronger than Kurt is; this is a conclusion Kurt has come to.  And Kurt knows that it would be best for him to stay here and take some time to himself.  He has a laundry list of things he needs to do; the very first thing he’ll do after he’s wiped his tears is find a new therapist.

Kurt watches Blaine shift into Carole’s arms.  She whispers something that is inaudible but causes Blaine to laugh and squeeze around her middle tighter.  He watches as his boyfriend shuffles down the line into Burt’s arms next.  Their hug is silent but meaningful and it warms Kurt’s heart that his family is Blaine’s family, people that will surely treat him right for the rest of his life.  He’s happy that their family is full of people they can easily trust.  Burt hastily wipes his eye when he loses contact with Blaine.  They remind him to call once he gets to California, and with one last wave they’re back inside the house.  

Kurt’s busy kicking up the dirt that separates the grass and the asphalt of the driveway.  It’s a brisk twelve degrees outside, and the black car Blaine ordered is idling in the street, a driver with a three-piece suit holding the door to the back seat wide open.  He’s patient, Kurt realizes.  He’s paid hourly.  They could take the rest of the afternoon saying goodbye for all the driver cares.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“So you can swerve into another lane because you can’t see through your tears on the highway?  No way, pretty boy.  I’m fine.”

“Okay.”  Kurt really can’t argue with that.  He probably would crash from lack of sight due to tear fall, and he wouldn’t even be sorry.

“Six weeks.  That’s _nothing_ compared to two years, right?”

“I know.”  Kurt shifts his head so he can look at his beautiful Blaine, engraving his face, indenting his brain with every detail.  “Six weeks, then.  Call me when you’re settled.”

“Don’t find any gorgeous, sarcastic, broken teenagers at the Lima Bean before Valentine’s Day.  Okay?  You can’t save them all, pretty boy.”

Kurt laughs through his tears.  He says the words; he certainly doesn’t mean them.  “I hate you.”

“Good, because I hate you just as much.”  Blaine grins and brushes the back of his hand up and down Kurt’s folded arm.

“Good.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.  We’ll Skype daily and text all the time.  You’ll be just as annoyed as when I’m in your face all the time.  I promise.”

“You need to go, baby.”  

Blaine captures Kurt’s body into a giant hug and they’re communicating without words now.  Kurt leans back and kisses him goodbye.

“Love you, B.”

Blaine smiles and starts descending backward toward the driver and the car, but still facing Kurt.  He’s walking backwards, Kurt realizes, to the rest of his life without him.  “I love you too.  Six weeks.”

Kurt smiles and hugs into himself, watching Blaine turn around and nod to the driver.  He gets into the car and rolls down the window as the driver gets situated.  Kurt doesn’t feel his feet moving, he only feels the pressure against his own lips as he selfishly steals another kiss from Blaine.  The car is pushed into gear, their lips separate, and the car slowly disappears from Kurt’s vantage point.

_Cuz in the end we have each other_   
_And that’s at least one thing worth living for_   
_And I would give the world to you._

**xK &Bx**

Blaine thinks back to Lima only a few hours ago, the tears under his skin as he turned to leave his one and only love right there in his driveway, only so he could selfishly go back to a world of loneliness and despair without everything he’s ever wanted back in California.  His final semester starts up on Tuesday, so at least he has a few days to get used to life without Kurt before he needs to get situated into a routine again.

He stayed as strong as possible for Kurt during their goodbyes.  He’d rather be there next to Kurt wherever he decides, but he’s confident that he’ll wait.  Kurt will wait.  

He sits on the corner of his bed, staring at the wall and eventually focusing on the single framed photo placed there years ago on his dresser, serving as motivation to regain happiness at some point in his new life, scared and alone yet together.  

Blaine’s aware that finding Kurt’s suicide letter over Thanksgiving break changes everything, for the level of how he feels about Kurt.  It changes Blaine entirely.  He feels the need, now more than ever, to shelter Kurt from any storm that may be brewed up over his head.  He feels it’s necessary to keep them apart for these few months so Kurt can learn to be himself again.

He flops down on his bed without changing or unpacking.  He can deal with it all tomorrow.  Head pounding from the pressure of his tears, he knows he needs rest.  He closes his eyes by hell or high water.

After only a few minutes of trying to sleep, Blaine reaches for his phone.  He dials the most familiar number he has and waits for Kurt to pick up all the way from Lima.

**xK &Bx**

It’s late in Ohio, three full hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time.  This may be the hardest part about having a boyfriend in California; the end of Blaine’s day is the middle of the night for Kurt.  He’s been trying to fall asleep for hours at this point, so when his phone starts buzzing, Kurt doesn’t hesitate to answer it.  He knows exactly who it must be.

“Blaine.”

“Hey.  Were you sleeping?”

“No, I’m in the middle of a bad case of insomnia.  What time is it?”

“Like four, your time.”

“Ugh.  I’m never letting Julie leave ever again.”

“No use going to sleep, huh?  Leave early and nap once new kid gets there.”

“That’s definitely the plan.”  It wasn’t until Blaine said it, but Kurt already can’t wait to nap this afternoon.

“I miss you, pretty.”

Kurt laughs.  “Shit.  I wasn’t going to say it because it’s so pathetic to miss each other after seven hours or whatever.  We’re so pathetic, B.”

“I’d rather be pathetic with you than miserable without.”

“Barf.”  Kurt grins into the phone.  He makes fun of Blaine for his cheesy, romantic lines all the time, but he secretly adores it.  He’d never admit that to anyone.  “I’ll bet you have spray cheese projectile vomiting out of your nose or something.  Don’t you?”

“Awww, you got me.  That’s why I’m so disgusting with the way I love you.”

“That cheese is all preservatives.  Get rid of it now.  No more carbs!”

“I don’t love you so much anymore, Kurt.”

“I hate you, too.  How was your flight?”

“Eh, fine.  I was sad you weren’t with me, but I know that you should be there.  I was thinking you come here for my Spring Break instead of me going there?  We can go to wine country or the beach, maybe go see Coop.”

“I love that idea.  When is it?”

“I don’t know.  I’ll find out, but probably late March.”

“And you’re still coming here for Valentine’s?”

“I told you.  Lavender roses or whatever the fuck.  I’ll be there.”

They talk about absolutely nothing for the next forty-five minutes and Kurt watches as the black sky turns into subsequent shades of grey then pink.  It’s not quite a sunrise, it’s too early, but it’ll do for now.  Soon they hang up to go their separate ways, remaining together every step of the way.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**   
**Song in this Chapter:  Snow Patrol – Chasing Cars**

**Blaine:  Yeah, I’ll be there at eleven.  Wait for me outside.**   
_Jimmy:  Will do, dude.  See you later._

Blaine sighs and switches to his phone app.  He hasn’t talked to Kurt all day since he’s been running around from class to class, hardly able to come up for a breath.  He’s driving back from school now and it’s probably the only time he’ll be able to catch up with his boyfriend.  He has homework and he needs to do laundry, not to mention Jimmy is forcing him to come out, and life without Kurt is a lonely, tedious routine.  

He dials the number and puts the phone on speaker while he waits for the call to connect. 

“Hi honey.” 

All the air in Blaine’s lungs escapes.  The stress from his shoulders disappears and he sighs, content that he’s whole again with the sound of Kurt’s voice.  It’s quite simple; there’s only one way he could possibly be centered.

“Pretty boy…” He sings.  “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.  Pretending to work in the back room, but I’m just catching up on TV.  Jules has it covered.”

“Word.”

Kurt laughs the beautiful, melodic giggle reserved only for Blaine.  “And what are you doing, my tiny little delinquent?”  

“Driving home from school, which is kicking my ass royally, by the way.  I have so much due in the next week; I am actually beginning to wonder if anyone here would notice if I disappeared.”

“You’ll get it done, just lock yourself away and try to avoid distractions.”

“Well, that’s the thing.  Jimmy and Steve want me to come out tonight…” He trails off, setting up Kurt in a way for the reaction he hopes for.  

“Have you seen them since you’ve been back?”

“I’ve been avoiding that scene, for obvious reasons.”

“Just because you’re there doesn’t mean you have to fuck the first person that taps you on the shoulder, Blaine.”  Kurt laughs again; it’s a joke.  “It’s also an avenue where you can interact with your friends, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…” Blaine sighs.  “I have so much work to do.”

“It’ll be there this weekend.  Just don’t drink too much so you can be functional all day tomorrow.”  There’s a pause.  “I trust you if you trust you, honey.”

“I trust myself for all the wrong reasons… only because I know what it feels like to be without you and I don’t ever want to go through something like that again.”

Kurt laughs again, clearly trying to keep the mood light.  “Motivation is motivation.”

Blaine sighs.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean for intense conversation.”

Kurt continues.  “Look, I know I got nervous that one time I tried to… well, you know.  And I know you were with other people during our little, how did you put it to my mom that one day?  Disagreement? Detour?”  

Blaine huffs. “Digression.”

“ _Digression_.  And that’s okay.  I’d be really concerned if you sat there and waited for me all those years.  I didn’t do that and neither did you, and that’s okay.  But we’re with each other now, and I trust that you’d rather have me than some random meaningless sex, right?”

“Correct.”

“Then go out with your friends, loosen up from what seems to have been a very stressful week at school, and just… have fun.  But please, for the love of all things holy and McQueen, please go home alone.”

“You’re the best, Kurt.  This is proving a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.”

“You’re the one who tells me it’s only six months.  Six months is nothing.  Six months is something we eat for breakfast, Anderson.”

Blaine lets his cackle bubble up from his stomach.  “Really, Kurt?  God, I miss you.”

“Me too, honey.  Did you buy your flight for Valentine’s?”

Blaine’s grateful for the subject change.  “Yeah, did I not email it to you?  I will when I get home.”

“Okay.  Should I make reservations somewhere?  What do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I don’t even care.  I just want to love you for the weekend and maybe see Burt and Carole for a few hours or something.  I really need the break.”

“Well, let’s stay in.  We can go grocery shopping and get a few movies.  Some dessert.”

“That sounds perfect.  I love you so much.  Always knowing what I need.”

“Mmhmm.  So.”  Kurt pauses for a few seconds, as if he’s willing up his courage to ask Blaine something.  “Do you like California?”

Blaine pulls into his driveway and shuts his car off.  He smiles at the phone because he knows exactly what this is.  This is phishing for information because Kurt is such an obsessive planner and the only thing he knows right now about his future is that Blaine will be in it.

“I do… it’s definitely a different pace than New York, but San Francisco still has the city feel.  Why ever do you ask, my pretty?”

“Just wondering.  Do they have good coffee there?”

“Are you seeking new franchise locations for The Lima Bean?”

Kurt huffs.  “Shut up.  I know you’re on to me.  I know you know what I’m doing.”

“So just come out and say it, then.”  Blaine teases.

Kurt sighs.  “Do you think you’ll stay there after graduation?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet.  But we can have the serious where-are-we-going-to-live-together conversation if you want to.  Do you want to live out here?”

“We’re not doing this now.  In person.  You have homework.”

Blaine groans.  “Don’t remind me.”

“Go get it done so you can go out with your friends.  Have you told them about me?”

“They knew about you when we weren’t… together, yet; they know some of our history.   And they know I saw you over the holidays.  I’m planning on telling them the details later in response to them making fun of me for not actively seeking someone to sleep with.”

Kurt giggles.  “Not too many details, I will need to look them in the eye over Spring Break, I assume.”

“Not too many details.  I love you, Hummel.”

“Love you too, B.  Careful tonight.”

“Always.  Talk to you later.”  Blaine hangs up with a smile on his face, despite the piles and piles of words he’s set to put together in some sort of flow until later when he’ll allow a break.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt hangs up the phone, all of the fake optimism crushing his body like a bag of oxygen that they swear is flowing – even if it’s not fully inflated – as the plane plummets directly into the ground.  His facial expression turns dark and twisted and he’s concentrating too hard on inhaling and exhaling until breath escapes his lungs.  Microscopic molecules that are so important to the extraction of his lungs seek freedom as they run as far away and out of his body as possible with no intention at all to ever return.  

He retreats upstairs as calmly as possible to the outside world.  He falls, breathless in every sense of the word, onto his bed and shimmies urgently until he’s under the covers, hidden from the outside world.  

He’s shaking violently, limbs landing wherever they recklessly need.  He’s probably warm to the touch but feels like he should have every blanket this side of the Mississippi wrapped around him.  He needs to breathe.  Inhale, exhale, breathe.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Blaine.  Trust is a choice and he’s conscious of that.  It’s just that he hates knowing what type of environment Blaine is going to be in.  It’s the type where he’s bound to get a lot of attention and Kurt’s not sure if he could handle knowing that he can’t be there with Blaine.

The panic attack sets heavily in his veins and remains for the night as he plays out the movie in his head of Blaine up against faceless men throughout the city of San Francisco, licking, touching, feeling every inch of their incomparable bodies.  It’s all he can do to lie perfectly still until the demon leaves him alone again.  His phone rings; it’s perfect timing to be talked off the ledge but he just needs another minute to calm down some.  He watches as it goes to voicemail.

**xK &Bx**

“So, his father escorted the douche upstairs to pack and get the fuck out and now we’re officially back together.  Although I like to think that we were together around Thanksgiving.”  Blaine shrugs and takes the last swig of his beer.

“Whoa.  If that’s not a story to tell the grandkids, I don’t know what is.”  Steve openly gapes at him, nudging his boyfriend in the ribs.  “Including the lame excuse for a threesome.”

“So Blaine Anderson is no longer a gay bar superstar?”  Jimmy slams his fist down in a mock-fit.  “Dammit!  Who am I going to live through vicariously?”  He grins and pulls Steve in to kiss his temple.  “I love you.”

Steve can only roll his eyes and Blaine laughs, shaking his head.  “Alright.  This is the new, boring me.  I’m going to cut out early.  I don’t know why you guys come out all the time when you have each other.”

“Oh come on, Blaine.  Your boyfriend’s across the country and if you go home now, you’ll just be lonely and lame.  At least we can secretly judge other people here.”

“It’s not secret when you stare at them until they look over and then you look away as if they’re not going to notice.  I’ll be fine; I want to call Kurt again anyway.  I’ll see you guys soon.”

They let him go, of course, because Blaine Anderson will never do something he doesn’t truly want to do.  He fights his way out and starts walking home as he clicks on Kurt’s name for the second time today.

It rings and eventually goes to voicemail but as Blaine is leaving a babbly message about how pathetic and lonely he is, Kurt beeps in and he answers that call instead of finishing whatever he was saying.

“Hey baby.  Did I wake you?”

“Can’t sleep.  You’re done with the club already?”

“Walking home now.  Would you believe me if I told you it was boring?  Jimmy and Steve really want to meet you though.  They’re convinced that you must be pretty great if you can sway me out of my, quote, gay bar superstar ways.  I don’t understand why they go out if they have each other here all the time, it just… defeats the purpose.  I’m not gonna go anymore, it’s stupid and makes me feel super lonely.”

“I’m so sad without you here, B.”  

“Ah ha, I knew there was something wrong.  You actually let me ramble.”

“I miss you.”

“Didn’t you just say that we eat six months for breakfast, pretty?  Stay strong for me.  Valentine’s Day is only like two weeks away.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t miss you!”

“No, of course not.  I know; I miss you too.  We’re failing to see the light at the end of the tunnel, though.”

“It’s so pathetic.  I’m in my mid-to-almost-late thirties and I’m pining over you like you’re just a high school crush.  I just feel, Blaine I’m just…” He sighs, clearly at a loss for words.

“I know.  You’re breaking my heart, babe.  Hey, at least we have a tangible prize at the end of this, you know?  I understand how you’re feeling, I do.  But we have to get through it because the rest of our lives together will be nothing but butterflies and rainbows.”  Blaine hears the sniffle on the other end and it breaks his heart that he can’t be there to throw his arms around Kurt right then and now, squeezing the lot of his depression directly out of him.  “It hurts, how much I love you, you know, and you’re killing me being this sad when there’s nothing I can do about it.  There is actual pain.  Heartstrings are tethering.”  

“I’m waiting for you, I promise.”  Kurt continues as if Blaine never spoke at all.  “But I’m so… broken, Blaine, and I don’t know if there’s any other way to fix it besides being with you physically.”

“Then come be with me, Kurt.  If you truly think that’s the only way to make you better, I will get you on the next fucking flight, I swear I will, because I need you to be okay so I can love you and be next to you until we die.  But baby, that’s not really the only way to help you heal, is it?”

“No.  It’s irrational.  I need to grow up and I need to be here for myself before someone else can be depended on like that.”

“You’re going through a low right now, but you’re allowed to seek help from me or anyone else.  You know who else would listen?  Your dad, Carole, Santana, Willa… that therapist you made the appointment with and never showed?”

“Don’t want anyone else.”

Blaine sighs.  “I know.”  He unlocks his door and lets himself inside.  “Kurt, can you just… promise me one thing?”  He can’t help but think this way, not since he found the note at Thanksgiving that has been branded inside the wrinkles of his brain ever since.

“What?”

“Please don’t let your lows get so low that you try to take your own life?  If you ever feel like you want to, you need to call me or someone and we’ll help you stop thinking that way.  I told you this already, and maybe it’s super selfish to say again right now but I really can’t do this without you.”

“Elaborate on ‘ _this_.’”

“Life.  School.  I’d never be able to face your family.  I’d never be able to face myself, knowing that you were mine and I didn’t see the signs.  Life without you is miserable and I can’t imagine how much worse it would be with you gone… permanently.  I don’t want to think about it.  I can’t.  The only thing that kept me going for two years after I left is the possibility of a reconciliation or whatever.”

“I won’t ever do that to you, B.  I had nothing to live for back then.  Now, I have everything.”

Blaine smiles.  “Me too, pretty.”

“I’m sorry, honey.  I’m gonna let you get some sleep.”

“No!”  Blaine clears his throat.  “I mean it’s okay.  It’s early still.  Why don’t I stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep? Is Jules opening tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.  Make sure to turn your alarm off and just… lie with me.  Okay?”

“Okay.  Thank you.”

“Come on, I can tell you’re not nearly as ready for bed as you should be.  Strip down, you beautiful fucking creature, and get in bed.  I’m jealous you get to see your body right now and I don’t.”

Kurt breathes out a giggle.  “Okay, okay.  Hang on.”  

Blaine listens to Kurt put the phone down as he seemingly strips.  It takes all of him to not touch himself right now in the middle of his living room.

“Back.”

_“Those three words are said too much._   
_They’re not enough.”_

Kurt laughs softly.  “Blaine, what are you doing?”

“Singing my hubby a lullaby.  Now shut up and appreciate me.”

_“If I lay here_   
_If I just lay here_   
_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_Forget what we’re told_   
_Before Kurt gets too old_   
_Show me a garden that’s bursting into life.”_

Blaine can hear a delicate giggle and he continues to sing although it’s got to be clear to Kurt that he’s grinning.

_“All that I am_   
_All that I ever was_   
_Is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see_

_I don’t know where_   
_Confused about how as well_   
_Just know that these things will never change for us at all”_

“Love you, miss you.”

“Me too, pretty boy.  Call me when you get up, okay?  Six months then forever.”

“Six months.”

They hang up together and stare at the ceiling as if they are in the same room.  They fall asleep separately but as together as they’ve ever been.

 **xK &Bx** **  
**  
Two weeks is only fourteen days and for this, Kurt is grateful.  February thirteenth at two fifty-nine couldn’t come quicker, and it feels like fourteen years later when it’s finally the day to start his journey to the airport to pick up his one and only.

Blaine calls from the other side to let him know they’re boarding and that he’ll be in Kurt’s arms in less than seven hours.  Seven hours is good; Kurt can deal with seven hours.

“Meet me at baggage claim, okay?”

“I’ll be there.  Safe travels, honey.”

“Always.  I love you.”

“Love you.”

They hang up and Kurt wills himself not to stare at the clock until it’s time to go.  He should leave at three, as Blaine’s plane gets in at five, but he’s completely useless and vibrating from excitement so much so that Julie eventually pushes him out the door with a large coffee, telling him to head down to Columbus now instead of in three and a half hours.  

He finds himself pacing up and down through two luggage carousels exactly two hours later, clicking for the time on his phone every four minutes.  He sits for a half hour then paces again.  He leaves the airport to find some food then comes back just as Blaine’s flight appears on the screen in the arrivals terminal.  The status – _in flight_ – is not what he wants to see and he stares it down until it’s changed to _arrived_.  He stops in his tracks when he realizes it’s changed and promptly finds the door that Blaine and his plane-mates will be coming from, just as his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“You’re here!”

“Duh.  So you know how I can never sleep on planes?”

Kurt nods enthusiastically at the phone.  It’s true; Blaine can only sleep when it’s quiet and pitch black.  “Yeah?”

“Well, neither could the little girl next to me.  Kurt, I just got schooled on the history of One Direction by her and her sister.”

“Hmmm, B, as much as I think it’s adorable that you were two little girls’ entertainment all the way from the west coast, do you think maybe you can hurry up downstairs so I can shamelessly make out with your mouth?”

“Oh, only good for my mouth.”

“You’re setting yourself up for a dirty, dirty joke right now.  Are you walking?”

“I promise as soon as they open the door to the airplane, I will be sprinting.  Until then, I’m going to go talk to little Valerie who appreciates me.”  He laughs on the phone but Kurt can just imagine his flirty little smile toward the girl.  Blaine really doesn’t understand how appealing he is to anyone with eyes.

Kurt sighs.  “I’m so excited you’re here.”

“Mmm, shhh.  Don’t say that!  We won’t have anything to talk about on the way home.”

Kurt laughs.  “Shut up.  Walking yet?”

“ _Kurt_.”

“Run like the wind, Tiny Tim.”

Blaine laughs recklessly and then there’s a shuffle.  “They’re about to let us out, babe.  See you in a minute?  I just have to pee.”

“Hurry.  I’ll be here.”  Kurt sits in a chair nearest the door, anxiously waiting to see Blaine’s face, hanging up the phone and flipping it over and over between his fingers.  Finally, _finally_ he locks eyes with Blaine, who has an armful of lavender roses and two little girls following and watching his every move.  He smiles to split his face open and turns to say bye to the little girls.  He picks up in a jog the rest of the way and smashes his body into Kurt’s, dropping the flowers and his messenger bag to hug him.

“Oh, baby.  You look so good.”

“You do!  God, Blaine.”  Kurt grins and connects his mouth to Blaine’s for a lengthy kiss.  “I missed you too much.  Unhealthy as fuck.”

“Whatever, we can be disgusting together.”  Blaine kisses him this time, harder and with more meaning than the last one.  He only breaks it to say, “Can we go home?  Need you in our bed.”

“That’s all we’re gonna do this weekend.”  Blaine bends to pick up the flowers and offers them to Kurt with an eye roll and a grin.  They head over, hand in hand, to the twirling luggage as they wait for Blaine’s bag.

“No.  I mean, yes.  But I wanna go see Burt and Carole, too.  Can we do that?  Friday night dinner?”

“You just saw them.”

“So?  I love them.”

“You love me.”

“I love you, Kurt.”  Blaine grins at Kurt and blows a raspberry on his cheek as the luggage starts to be haphazardly thrown down the shoot and people gather, pushing their way to the front.  He keeps his eyes on the moving belt and continues to talk.  “But I love them too, and I wanna see them just for a few hours.  I don’t need a lot of time.”

“A lot of time for what?”

“What?”

Kurt stares at him.  “Nevermind.  Did you use your regular bag?”

“Yeah.  The black Tumi.”

“How original.”

“Shut it, Hummel.” 

Kurt grins and lets Blaine take him roughly around the waist, pulling him in close.  They wait patiently, Kurt’s eyes on the belt and Blaine’s mouth on Kurt’s neck.  The bag handlers could take their sweet time.  Neither Blaine nor Kurt needs to be anywhere but right here with each other.

**xK &Bx**

Blaine’s eyes linger to Kurt’s backside as he extends the muscles in his arms and back to slam the trunk shut after they’ve placed Blaine’s things there.  “God, baby.  Your body is incredible.  Can’t believe all of this is for me.”

“Better believe it.  Get in the car.”

Blaine yawns and rolls his eyes before opening the passenger side door and climbing in.  He buckles his seatbelt and plugs his phone in to charge and play music.  “Julie texted me.”

“Oh, God.  Ignore everything that girl has to say about me today.”

He blinks.  “Why…?”

“Ugh.”  Kurt rolls his eyes as he starts to drive.  “I was really excited that you were coming home and I just… couldn’t concentrate after I knew you were on your way and she kicked me out of the coffee shop and told me to come to the airport early.  I may have been waiting for you for the majority of your flight.”

Blaine’s heart does a back flip.  “Awww, pretty.  Couldn’t concentrate without me?”

“No sir, but don’t let it go to your head.  It’s only because of the long distance factor.  I wouldn’t have been so excited if we saw each other all the time.”

“I was always really excited to come home from school and meet up with you when we lived together!  Here and in New York.”

“So I’m better than school.  Both schools of which you hated.”  Kurt deadpans and it almost sounds serious.  Blaine has to look over at Kurt again to confirm it’s a joke.  Thankfully, it is.

“Shut it before I have to shut it for you.”

“Want to?  I can pull over.”  Kurt bites his lip.

“God.  Drive faster.”

**xK &Bx**

“Jesus, Blaine.  How are you so-ooh, good at that?”  Kurt’s breath stutters and he’s not sure he’ll be breathing at all by the end of this.

“Don’t think you want me…”  Blaine sinks the rest of the way down atop Kurt’s cock.  “…to ans-answer that right now.  Fuck, shit.  Kurt, you’re so big.”

“Move when you’re ready.  So tight.”

“Mmmm, shit.  It’s been so long.”  Blaine rises up and slams back down, impaling himself on Kurt’s cock hard and fast.

It shakes Kurt to his core; the sensation feels like home as Blaine gathers himself at the edge of a rhythm, clearly pushing them both to the end of the earth.  Kurt follows, as per usual.  He’ll always be right there with him.  

Blaine continues to bounce, speeding up when it’s necessary and rutting in a circle every few thrusts.  Kurt starts to meet him in the middle, forcing the little _uh uh uh’s_ out of Blaine that Kurt loves more than any other sound ever, and he decides right then and there that he prefers this position above all others.  His Blaine truly looks like a porn star and it’s taking everything in Kurt to not come like a teenager this second.

Kurt finds and holds Blaine’s palms flat against Kurt’s heart.  They’re using his chest as leverage to lift Blaine up and over again and again.  It’s a hell of an angle and possibly the deepest Kurt’s ever been; words are not computing as Blaine’s legs seem to go weak and he collapses against Kurt, and he shakes and shoots all over them both without being stroked at all.

Still pleasantly snuggled within Blaine, Kurt thrashes his head back against the headboard as his legs shake and tighten.  He screams Blaine’s name and is effectively out of breath and being smothered by Blaine’s body.  These are his favorite moments with his boyfriend.

“ _Kurt_.”

“Hi.”

“Mmmm, my Kurt.”  Blaine rolls off of him and nuzzles his head into Kurt’s neck.  “Can’t wait ’til forever.”

It hits Kurt then.  _Forever_ means _forever_.  There’s no going back on that word; there’s no reason for him to want to.  For the first time since he’s known Blaine, he thoroughly understands just what _forever_ means, and for the first time in his life, he thinks of forever as something one-hundred-percent positive.

Blaine continues, probably aware of Kurt’s internal tangent.  “Good for you?”

“The best.”

“Need anything?”

“Just forever, B.  Give me forever.”

“Sold.”

**xK &Bx**

The warmth of the space next to him on the mattress is comforting, a temperature he would never be able to mimic on his own.  Kurt rolls onto his back and strains his ears to hear whatever must be happening wherever Blaine has ventured to.

He takes this moment alone to really revel in last night and flail about their undeniable connection.  He officially couldn’t be happier with Blaine and he thanks his lucky stars that Blaine was still there to take him back, regardless of all the resistance.  Up until this moment, Kurt has never believed in the fact that he _deserves_ a happy ending as much as he wants one.  He knows, now more than ever, that the long distance that’s between him and Blaine may be difficult right now but it is strengthening their relationship for the long run.  He’s content with the realization and is excited to see them learn and grow even more from everything they go through together.

He digs a fresh pair of sweatpants and a tee out of Blaine’s suitcase and shuffles to the kitchen, where there are three empty grocery bags, the sizzle of a pan frying eggs, and Blaine keeping an eye while sipping coffee from downstairs.

“People from the west coast are supposed to sleep late.  It’s so early in your head.”

Blaine jumps out of his trance at the sound of Kurt’s voice and looks up to smile at him.  “Good morning, Valentine.”

“Good morning, baby boyfriend.”  Kurt grins and approaches him, hugging him around his waist.  “Sleep well?”

“Always with you.”

“Me too.”

“Okay.  I’m sorry, pretty.  I can’t do this anymore!”  Blaine pulls away from Kurt and Kurt is terrified.  

“What?”

“We were a mush-fest last night and that’s great, we haven’t seen each other in a few weeks and I secretly love when we’re all lovey-dovey sometimes.  But then!  Then, this morning, it’s just a continuation, and I get that today is Love Day or whatever the fuck, it’s supposed to be mushy and full of cotton candy and rainbows and sweet kisses on the lips and snookums and chocolate and breakfast in bed and puppies and all that bullshit.  And I love you, I love you so much it hurts and you know that.  Must we be all… lovey, though?”

Kurt laughs, thoroughly relieved that it’s _just_ that.  “You are the most romantic.”

Blaine joins him in laughing and pinches at Kurt’s hip.  “Seriously.  That was gross.  I was beginning to lose my faith in just how meant to be we are for each other.”

“You can still feed me though.  It is a special occasion.”

“Whatever, it’s just February fourteenth.”

“I’m still hungry on February fourteenth.”

“Sit, pretty.  This was already for you.”

“Mmmhmm, whipped.”

“Just love you.”

“Good enough.”  Kurt smiles and heads back into the bedroom to get his laptop.  He sits at the kitchen table and checks his emails in silence as Blaine finishes their breakfast, and it’s easily straight back to the domestic ways of their past, tailored to their future.

**xK &Bx**

Valentine’s Day is spent gloriously together, finally in person, perfectly perfect with a few movies and another trip to the grocery store.  They choose only the best ingredients for the best meal and the night is spent in love and lust of two people who are committed to each other until the end of time.  With the time they’ve given themselves, they quickly relearn bodies by caressing every inch and then touching again just to make sure.  

Now, they are cuddled in bed again, bellies full and bodies completely sated from multiple orgasms.  Blaine is aimlessly brushing his knuckles against Kurt’s collarbone and Kurt is breathing evenly, safest as he’s ever been in Blaine’s arms.

Kurt feels the need to say something, if only just to make sure his words are working.  “Today was seriously perfect.”

“It was.  _I love you_ doesn’t even seem like enough right now.”

“Know what you mean.”

“But I do.  Love you.  And something more that I have yet to figure out.”

“I _something more_ you, B.”

Blaine grins, like Kurt personally hung the sun in his world.  “You still give me that feeling, you know.  Like everything is new with you.  I think you’ll give me butterflies until the day I die.”

“I’m really old, though.  Nothing can be new…”

“Yeah, but-” Blaine’s laugh explodes out of him as Kurt whips a pillow out from under him and smothers him in the face with it.  

Kurt stops and catches Blaine’s mouth with his as they make out shamelessly for a few minutes.  “Go to sleep, babe.”

“Goodnight, Kurt.  I love you, old man.”

“Love you too, Tiny.”

**xK &Bx**

_Good Will Hunting_ is on the television and Burt is clearly hanging onto every word in the dialogue.  Blaine’s not so much watching the movie as he’s watching Burt’s reactions to the movie, mainly because it’s a film all about someone who just needs to be saved by someone who could appreciate his talents.  Blaine feels like he’s Matt Damon and Burt is Robin Williams, and somehow they get to the end of the story where all is about to be right in the world.  The characters in the movie are just about to figure out that Matt Damon is God’s gift when Blaine realizes that the thing he needs to ask Burt is way more important than a rerun of a movie in syndication on basic cable.  He interrupts.  

“Burt.”

Blaine turns his head behind him and glances into the kitchen.  Kurt and Carole are hunched over the stove, working on something that looks far too complicated for Blaine and Burt to even attempt to be involved in.  Everyone’s distracted.  This is a good thing.  He takes the little black box out of his pocket.  “Don’t freak out.  Keep your voice low and just… listen to me.”  He keeps his eyes on Burt and slides the box across the coffee table.  

This catches Burt’s attention and he takes it, opening it and shooting up out of his recliner.  “Blaine!”

“Shhhhhhh!  God, shut up!”  Blaine keeps his voice in a whisper; his eyes dart to the kitchen to see if Kurt or Carole has noticed Burt’s outburst.

Kurt catches his eye looking directly at him and walks toward them.  “Everything okay in there?”

“Yeah, yeah.  I flicked my water bottle at your father because he was dozing off.”

Kurt laughs.  “He’s gonna get you back so bad one day.”

“Yeah, I am.”  Burt sits back down.  “Like getting Kurt out of my hair for good.”  He mumbles.

Blaine huffs and rolls his eyes fondly.  “You don’t have any hair.”

Kurt shakes his head and goes back to the kitchen, jumping right back into vigorously mixing until Carole tells him to stop.

“What?”  Burt pats the top of his head in a mockery of shock.

Blaine arches an eyebrow and waits patiently until Burt’s done laughing at his own joke.

Kurt’s dad eventually sits down, staring at the ring for a full minute before saying anything.  Blaine shifts on the couch, nervous from the silence.

“This is what I think it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“You two are gonna get married?”

“If he wants to, I guess we are.  I bought this ring about six months before we broke up in New York.  I thought that I’d be able to propose and then transfer to San Francisco and he would just be fine with it.  The more I thought it over, the less fair that seemed so I… held onto it in hopes that we’d be in this position again.”

“Uh huh…  And are you in that position again?  It’s only been a few weeks.”

“I know that, and I’m not going to ask him right away.  But I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again before I would want to, and it’s really important that I have your blessing for this.  I know you know I love him, I’d do absolutely anything for him, and I know we’ll be together forever now that we’ve both, umm… matured a little bit.  I love him and I want to wake up to him every single day of the rest of my life, Burt.  Give me the green light to do that.”

“When have you ever waited for the green light to sleep in his bed, Blaine?  You’ve been doing that, without permission, since you were seventeen.”

“Yep.  Since he was thirty-one.”  Blaine raises an eyebrow as a challenge.

Burt laughs it off.  “You’re a lot younger than him, buddy.  Are you ready for the commitment?”

“Ready or not, it’s here.  Even without proposing, we’re entirely committed to each other.  I feel like the engagement is just an inevitability.”

“And the marriage?”

“I’m sure it’ll be a struggle sometimes.  I know you’ve heard about some of our arguments or whatever, but I’m prepared to go through the ups and downs with him… for him.  I think we both finally understand what it should feel like versus what we want it to be like.  We’ve grown up a lot during that time we spent apart.  I think that breakup is what’s going to make us last.”

Blaine looks up at Burt who has tears in his eyes.  He smiles and looks down at his hands, entwined with each other and sweating nervously.  

Burt hands the ring back to Blaine, who secures it in his pocket.  Burt watches him and says, “My answer is yes.  It was always yes, but to hear you say all that to me, I can only imagine what’s gonna go through his head when you’re doing it for real.  Carole and I will always support our boys in anything you decide.  Got that, kid?”

Blaine nods.  “Thank you.  Thank you so much for everything, seriously.”

Burt stands up.  “Come here.”  He pulls Blaine up and into his arms.  They latch onto each other and step away in an acceptable amount of time.  “I would say welcome to the family, but that conversation was six years ago.  So congratulations on the continuation.”  

Blaine laughs and shakes his head.  “Thanks.”

His eyes find Kurt, who’s been watching them with a quizzical look on his face.

“I have to go manage damage control, thanks to your outburst.”

Burt laughs and pats him on the back.  “Good luck with that.”

Blaine grins and enters the kitchen.  “Hey.  Can I help?”

“What was that all about?  Have you really reduced my father to tears?”

Blaine shrugs.  “He said he’s proud of me for graduation.  I don’t know.  Graduation isn’t for a few months, I think he’s crazy.”

“We all are, honey.”  Carole chimes in and turns her head to smile at him.  She promptly goes back to stirring.

Blaine laughs.  “Proud or crazy?”

“Touché.”  Kurt rolls his eyes fondly and checks the pot on the stove.  

“What are you guys making, anyway?  It smells really good.”  Blaine props his head on his hands and stares at Kurt’s backside as he reaches up and over Carole for some spices on the other end of the counter.  He’s rather shameless about looking.

“Stop objectifying my son, Anderson.”  Burt strolls into the kitchen and sucks at a water bottle before nestling his body next to Carole’s as she stirs and stirs.

“Oh my God.  Kurt, I wasn’t…” Blaine throws his hands up in defense, blushing from being caught.

Kurt only turns his shoulders to look at him and smirk.  “Shrimp, mussel, and clams in fra diavolo over linguine and antipasti salad.”

“Whoa, ambitious.”  Blaine stands up and twirls Kurt as though they’re going to start slow dancing.  “Do you have experience in the workings of a fra diavolo sauce, though?  I’m not so sure you’re qualified for the job.”

“Of all of us, I am the most qualified.  So shut up and let me go before I burn it.”

“I do love you, you know.”

“I do know that your conversation with Big Burt over here was not about graduation… _you know_.”

“Damn, you’re good.”  Blaine kisses him quick and lets him go for the sake of the cooking.  He could never lie to Kurt, not really.  He’s sure that Kurt knows something is up and he probably won’t stop until he figures it out.  Blaine needs a quick fix.

The banter continues through dinner, whipping itself in between each member of the family comfortably.  They all enjoy their time together, especially since it’s a rarity with Blaine clear across the country most of the time.

When the meal has been cleared and Burt’s retreated to the couch again, Carole follows and Blaine sticks around to help Kurt with the dishes.  Kurt washes and Blaine dries in complete, comfortable silence for the entire time it takes the sink to empty.  Blaine puts the last of the dishes in their appropriate spot and smiles at Kurt.

“What?”  Kurt looks at him, seemingly weary of what Blaine is thinking.

“Nothing, I prefer when we can spend time together in person.  I hate not being able to see you when I tell you about my day.”

Kurt scrunches his nose and brushes his fingertips along Blaine’s arm so soft that he shivers.  “I hate that you can only be here for a long weekend.”

“We have two weeks for Spring Break.”  And it doesn’t make it better that the right now is so compacted and short.  Really, Blaine is only off from school for one week but there’s no reason why Kurt couldn’t stay while Blaine has classes, so they booked the flight for an extended stay.

“That’s still a month away, though.”

“One day at a time, pretty.  We’re almost halfway out of the six month thing already.”  Blaine smiles and brings his lips to meet Kurt’s in a light kiss that barely touches but means everything.

“Okay!”  Kurt claps once and smiles.  “Let’s talk about something else.  What do you want to do for the rest of your time here?”

“Really, Kurt?  That’s your subject change?  You damn well know exactly what I want to do for the rest of my time here with you.”

“Besides that!  Want to crack open a bottle and stay here tonight or do you want to go back to the Bean?”

“Can we drink but at the apartment?”

“Being drunk slows down your sperm count, B.”

“Good thing we’re not trying to get pregnant.  Come on, baby.  I think I’ll be able to keep it up.  Can you?”  There’s a glint in his eye, a teasing quality that he only has when he’s being himself around Kurt.

“Honestly?”  Kurt laughs and playfully backhands Blaine’s chest.  “I’m really not sure.  But I can have a glass of something?”

“Okay.  I just wanna say bye to the parentals.”  He starts to walk toward the living room and into the hallway.

“I wasn’t going to just leave, Blaine.”  Kurt laughs and shakes his head as he follows him through into the area where his parents are sitting and most certainly not eavesdropping.

When Blaine turns to face Carole, she has tears in her eyes and she’s bright red from clearly holding in her emotions.  Burt must have told her.  “Carole.”  He says, by way of warning as Kurt creeps up behind him.

“Carole?  Oh my God, are you okay?  What’s wrong?”

Carole snaps out of it and stares at Kurt.  “Nothing, honey.  I’m just overcome by my motherly emotions.  That’s all.”

“Okay… what does that mean?”  Kurt squints his eyes at her and then looks at Blaine for help.  Blaine shrugs his shoulders and most definitely does not meet Kurt’s eye.  _He’ll totally be able to tell._

“I’m just so happy two of my boys are back and you’re together and in love and it melts my heart.  I’m very proud of you both.”

“What’s going on?  First Burt cries and grabs you in a very tight and uncomfortable hug and then Carole’s sitting here sobbing with a Golden Girls repeat.  Blaine?”

“Huh?”

“Blaine.  I loathe surprises, as you know, so if you have something to ask me on this Valentine’s weekend, then just ask me.”

“Stop being crazy.  Are we going or not?”

Kurt’s eyes remain on Blaine to the point where he does actually get uneasy from it.  “Kurt.  Stop!  You’re freaking me out.”

“I hate surprises.  I have this irrational fear that I won’t show enough emotion or too much and I’ll be judged for not appreciating it enough or whatever, whatever the surprise may be.  Whatever gift you have for me that’s turning my parents into wet seals… oh my god.  Wait.”

Carole gasps and jumps up as if it’s happening now.  Blaine just looks around to each of them.  “What?”

“What?”

Blaine rolls his eyes.  “Can we go now, pretty?”

The stress leaves Kurt’s shoulders as he nods his affirmation.  “Yeah.  Bye, Dad.  Bye, Carole.  Love you guys.”  

Blaine watches as Kurt gives them tight hugs and then he steps into the place where Kurt’s not and whispers in Carole’s ear.  “Not yet.”  He moves to Burt and whispers.  “Don’t ruin this.”  He steps back and smiles at them both.  “I’ll see you before I leave.”

“Bye, boys.”  Carole grins at them and Blaine rolls his eyes.  He reaches out for Kurt’s hand and they leave without another word.

Keeping a grand proposal from Kurt is going to be a lot harder than Blaine had ever expected.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**   
**Song Used in this Chapter:  Britney Spears – The Hook Up**

_March_

Blaine is so ridiculously busy between Valentine’s Day and Spring Break that he hardly even realizes that Kurt is due in California tomorrow.  He has so much work to hand into his English classes before the week off and he thinks it may have been a bit of a mistake to have Kurt arrive before the school is officially on break.  That’s not to say he isn’t excited, he just wishes he could have planned this month better.

It’s been a few weeks since he’s seen his boyfriend and the Kurt-shaped void has been something Blaine’s gotten quite used to.

When Kurt calls while he’s conveniently in the middle of bullshitting through yet another creative writing essay, Blaine almost considers ignoring the phone to get through at least one more paragraph.  He can’t do it, though, and he answers on the third ring.

“Hey baby.”

“Should I bring actual warmth or just a sweatshirt or two?  Jeans?”

Blaine laughs; Kurt gets really adorable, especially when he’s excited about something.  Obviously.  “Bring some jeans and a sweatshirt for when we’re up north.  You can put all that away for when we go see Coop.  I can’t believe you put off packing until a few hours before you leave.  Is this the apocalypse?  Kurt Hummel, unprepared?”

“Shut up, I’m really busy.  This is a business call.  Coop called me and told me we’re going to Disneyland.  Are we actually going to Disneyland?”

Blaine’s laughing through the conversation; Kurt really does mean business.  “Uh, do you want to?  He hadn’t mentioned that to me, but we can if you want.”

“Jeez, B.  Are you excited or dead?”

“I’m the most excited to see my pretty boy, my brain’s just fried.  Sorry.”  

“Mmmmm.”

“We can go to Disneyland if you want to.”

“It’s okay.  I don’t really want to.”

“Okay.  Whatever you want, we’ll do.  What else are you packing?”

“Ummm…”  

Blaine can just see Kurt look frantically around his room with the phone attached between his ear and shoulder.  

“I don’t know.  Should I bring going-out clothes?  Can we go to that club you used to go to?  Do I get to meet your friends?”

“Kurt.”  Blaine laughs. “There is time for all of that, if that’s how you want to spend your time here.  I am literally down for anything.”

“I know you go down on me, Blaine, but I want to meet your friends and go out in the Castro and get the full experience of how it would feel like if I-” Kurt cuts himself off.  “Mmmm.”

Blaine allows a downright giggle.  “If you live here with me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay to say, babe.  We know it’s gonna happen, we just don’t know if it’s gonna be here, yet.  Why don’t we revisit this conversation after we figure out if you even like California?  I’ll show you a locally authentic time, I promise.”

“Then when do we go to LA?  I think I hate LA a little and I haven’t even been there.”

“You might.  If you despise it, we can keep driving until we get to San Diego.  It’s really pretty down there.”

“Mmm, okay.”  Kurt sighs through the pause.  “Cooper told me I was his best friend today on the phone.”

Blaine huffs,  “I thought you knew that.”  Blaine’s laugh isn’t lonely; it’s quickly joined to Kurt’s.

“I don’t know; he’s never said it before.”

“You’re adorable.  God, I miss you.”

There’s silence on the other end as Blaine shuts his laptop and deems it impossible to multitask.  

“Blaine, I was thinking...”  
  
“That’s dangerous.”  There’s a pause that Kurt is supposed to fill with a giggle, but when he doesn’t, Blaine continues.  “What about?”

“I want Cooper to be the best man on my side when we get married.  I’m sorry for stealing your brother, but I figured that you’d have Santana or whoever, and I really wanted to have Finn there with me but obviously that’s impossible so maybe I can have someone who’s like my brother, even though he’s also my husband’s brother, but that doesn’t make me and you brothers, okay?”

It sounds like Kurt doesn’t breathe through the entire exchange; Blaine’s heart jumps when he realizes exactly what his boyfriend is talking about.  “Wait, are we planning our wedding?”

“It’s too soon.”

“Too soon.”

“For a proposal.”

“Kurt, stop.  We can have this conversation if you want to, but it has to happen in person.  I will, however, disagree with you about the too soon shit; it’s definitely not too soon.  The way I see it, we’ve been together nearly six years.”

“Okay, okay.  I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know.”  Blaine sighs.  “Okay, so what time do you get here?  I don’t feel like opening my email.”

“Lazy ass.”

“Shut up, I just shut my laptop twenty seconds ago.”

“Four-thirty your time.  Can you pick me up or should I take a cab?”

“No, I’ll be there.  I get out of class at two so I’ll come straight to the airport after that.”

“Okay.  I don’t care where we go or what we do; I’m just so excited to be with you for two whole weeks.”

“I know.  It’ll almost feel like we’re living together again.”

“I miss you.”

“Eat it for breakfast, pretty.”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to say it but when I say it…” He’s joking; Blaine knows that.  “Alright, fine.  I should get some beauty rest.  Don’t make fun of me when you see me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I look terrible after long flights.”

“Shut the fuck up and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow!”

“I love you, baby.”

“Something more you too, honey.  See you tomorrow.”

When Kurt hangs up, Blaine does too and opens his laptop again.  He gets through the essay by the skin of his teeth and then looks around his room, suddenly realizing that he has officially finished all the work that’s due before spring break.  His eyes avert to the clutter of his bedroom and he deems it completely necessary to clean up before Kurt screams at him about his teenage lifestyle… or whatever.

As he roams around to take a closer look, he realizes that his apartment is a complete disaster.  He’s been so distracted by school and study groups that he hasn’t had time, since he unpacked from his trip to Ohio weeks ago, to straighten up.  The laundry isn’t going to do itself so he starts a load and puts anything he can back in its place.

He moves from room to room aimlessly with the vacuum.  He stops and goes with it, effortlessly transforming each room into a livable space where Kurt can coexist with him for a while.  When everything is picked up off the floor and put in an appropriate spot, the apartment finally resembles a suitable place to live again.

He hasn’t really thought about it too much, but he figures that he’ll propose at some point this week.  He’s nervous – Kurt did mention that it’s too soon, but he’s also pretty sure that Kurt wouldn’t say no.  He’s been carrying the ring around in his pocket like a lead weight, forever aware of its presence.  When he’s listening to lectures, he fiddles with it as though he’s touching a piece of Kurt that belongs to only him.

He’s not sure if he should act out some sort of grand gesture or if he should just… ask.  Cooper’s suggestions were surprisingly not half bad but he’s unsure which way Kurt would appreciate the most.  He’d like to do it at a restaurant, during dessert, or make it seem like a random, simple question while they’re alone together in the apartment.  

He gets ready for bed and he can almost see Kurt on the empty side waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth.  It’s such a natural need and he hopes his wishes could come true as soon as Kurt agrees to marriage.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt knows that Blaine is planning to propose this week, because Cooper told him, so he’s having more than his fair share of trouble packing.  There is an extra pressure of always looking incredible, as he has no idea when Blaine is going to do it.  Cooper is his eyes and ears on the west coast; every time Kurt’s name is even muttered out of Blaine’s mouth, Kurt knows the details of the conversation almost immediately.  

He stares harder at the thirty different outfits that are hung neatly, on his portable rack that he’s been using for weeks to plan, and tilts his head.  He finds yet another cashmere sweater that he can layer in San Francisco and throws it into the mix, entirely unsure what’s actually going to make it to his suitcase in less than ten hours.  

He can’t help but freak out a bit as he rearranges a few outfits for what must be the hundredth time, so he dials his best friend recklessly in hopes of being talked off the edge.  Cooper’s been the best friend to Kurt, and an extraordinary brother to Blaine.  He singlehandedly sees to it that both of them are not miserable when they’re apart. 

When Cooper answers on the second ring with a “Bro!,” Kurt sighs a large exhale of relief.  Thank God for Cooper Anderson.

“I’m freaking out, Coop.  What does one wear to their own proposal when they know it’s happening but they have no idea when?  You need to get more information so I don’t die from anticipation every time he looks at me.”

“Disneyland, dude!”

“Hey, asshole.  You only want that to happen because you are a child.  Stop trying to drill that into his head.  He doesn’t even want to go!”

“Ugh, fuck.  I don’t know where else to take you.  It’s kind of boring here.  At least if you have a few hours to kill in New York, you could be inside a Broadway theatre in twenty minutes flat.”

“Boring?  Los Angeles is boring?”

“Boring for us, dude!  We’re ancient out here.  Blaine, though.  Blaine’s in his California prime.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“You know I’m just fucking with you, bro.”

“Just find out when he’s doing it, please.  I’m about to bring everything in my closet.

“I’ll tell B to rent the van.”

“Fuck off.”

Cooper laughs.  “I’ll find out.  I can’t believe my baby brother is getting married!”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Please.  You said yes the day you met him.”

“I probably would have.  I felt a shift in my body I can’t explain the day I met him.  He was all… tiny and adorable and beaten up, and limping and he essentially told me to go fuck myself but I couldn’t stay away regardless of how much I resisted.”  Kurt sighs and shakes his head as he looks at himself in the mirror.  “This is really it, huh?”

“You changed his life, pretty boy.”

Kurt lets a strong laugh escape from his center.  “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?  Can’t I be your other husband?”

“Oh my God, Cooper.  Go away.”

“Anything else to report?”

“Coop.”  Kurt smiles, although mostly to himself because Cooper can’t see him through a telephone line.  “You’re my best friend too.  You’ll be in the wedding, won’t you?”

Cooper laughs.  “Of course, man!  Shit, I’m excited to see you.  I hope he does it while you’re still in San Fran so we can gush like little girls about it for the rest of your trip.”

“Okay.”  Kurt rolls his eyes and laughs again.  “Goodnight Cooper.  See you in a few days.”

“Love you, man.  I’m gonna go bother Blaine now.”

Kurt can only laugh and hang up the phone.  He texts Blaine, hoping he’ll see it before he accepts the phone call from Cooper.

_Kurt:  Coop just called me pretty boy._

Of course, he gets a response immediately.  Blaine seems to get especially territorial over the nickname.

**_Blaine:  Mine._ **   
_Kurt:  Kick him in the balls when we see him._   
_Kurt:  Goodnight, honey._   
**_Blaine:  I love you!_ **   
**_Blaine:  Oh, speak of the devil.  Fucking bastard._ **

**xK &Bx**

Kurt twirls his phone around in his hands and paces back and forth in Blaine’s living room.  His sweatpants are nearly falling off of him, hanging low on his hips as he walks and twirls quickly, really unsure how to break the news.  

He can’t believe Christian Anderson is dead.

The bay window allows the sunlight to bask in stripes across the room; it’s warm, glowing happily across his skin as if it’s trying to taunt him in what should have been a great day.  He taps his chin three times with the phone and huffs.  He takes a seat on the corner of the couch and pulls back a sob, twisting around toward the doorway to make sure he hasn’t been caught yet, knowing it’s just a matter of time before Blaine feels the cold, empty left side of his bed; he’s always had a sixth sense for that sort of thing.

Kurt selfishly resents Christian for dying just as things were getting good again.  He fears that this will turn Blaine’s upward spiral in reverse and they’d be right where they were three years ago in New York.  Worse, he feels his own walls going up as he finds a way to cope with the death of the man who was a primary obstacle for most, if not all, of their previous relationship.  Kurt stubbornly decides that they have to get through all of this together because having Christian there with them, chasing them around the country until one of them died, would be so much worse.  

Kurt accepts that a cruel and painful death was Christian Anderson’s destiny.

Ultimately, Kurt decides to let Blaine come to him.  It’ll be a much better situation if Kurt doesn’t specifically wake him up for this.  That’s just wrong.  

So he gets up from the bench at the bay window and finds the filter and the coffee beans (Lima Bean brand, of course.  Kurt will have to kiss Julie on the mouth the next time he sees her.) and rests his chin on his hand with his elbow on the counter as it percolates centimeters away from his face.  He steals a cup before it’s finished and throws a splash of milk and sugar in, topping it off with a shake of cinnamon.  He sits, reflecting on the painted sky outside the window as it comes into full focus, cerulean catching off the bay nearby.  

All of Blaine’s jubilant sounds resonate through his brain as he remembers each one from last night.  It’s so good to finally be here with Blaine, in a house he’s never lived in within a city he’s never been to before in his life.   Kurt feels complete, like the marathon straight across the country has been finished for hours and he came in first place.  He aches deep down in his bones as his mind banishes all of his happy thoughts and forces to focus on the death of a family member.  He truly cannot predict the way Blaine is going to react.  

Right on cue, his beautiful Blaine trudges into the kitchen and beelines promptly to Kurt’s lap.  

“What about my coffee, pretty boy?”  Blaine yawns and looks at him for the first time this morning and immediately must sense something being off.  “Kurt?  What’s up?”

“Honey… umm, so... you know how, sometimes, closure is just really great for the rest of your life?  It shapes who you become and… sometimes, it’s just time to say goodbye.”

“What?”  He plummets off of Kurt’s lap and immediately attaches his hands to his own hips.  “What exactly do you fucking mean by that, Hummel?”

The magnet gives and takes it all away just to confirm that each side is where it belongs.  

Kurt stands and latches onto his own hips, imitating Blaine’s stance, and stares into his face.  “Whoa, hey… no.  Shit, nothing like that.  Not me.  You never have to say goodbye to me.”  He curls his hands through both of Blaine’s elbows and hugs him around the waist.  “We’re never breaking up again.  This is it, right?”

“Fuck, Kurt.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”  Kurt smiles and kisses him lightly in the center of the mouth.  “Seriously, though.  We do need to talk, but it doesn’t have anything to do with us.  Directly, anyway.”  His face is somber again, the curve of his teeth falling wayward down to his knees.  “I just got off the phone with my dad.”

“He’s okay?  Carole’s-”

“They’re fine, Blaine.”  Kurt grabs at Blaine’s hair and threads his fingers through it, in hopes of comfort.  He scratches at his scalp and sniffles.  “Baby, it’s Christian.”

“Uh huh, and what about him?”

“Honey.”  Kurt takes his hand, winding his own fingers around Blaine’s.  “I’m here for you regardless of what you decide, okay?  Either way, we’ll get through it together.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, B.  He is.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Prison fight?”

Kurt nods, watching Blaine closely as he stares past Kurt into space.  A few minutes of silence pass and then Blaine simply nods.

“I’m gonna…” Blaine thumbs in the general direction of the bedroom. 

Kurt rubs his pointer across Blaine’s knuckles.  “You’re going to get through this, B.  I’m right here.”

“Will you tell… do you think Coop knows?”

“You head back into bed.  I’ll get in touch with him.  Right behind you, okay?”

Blaine nods and smiles at him, but in a way that breaks him completely. Kurt kisses Blaine’s temple and separates to find his phone, conveniently situated by the coffee maker across the room, while Blaine heads gloomily into the bedroom without a word.  

**xK &Bx**

He shuts the door behind him, empty of anger and feelings.  He plops himself on the bed and turns to watch himself try to push tears out in the mirrored closet doors.  For so long, he was under the impression that he was entirely numb to the lot of Christian Anderson, and now he’s learning a new emotion altogether: three parts angst, regret, and longing, one part mourning.  He would have believed no one if they told him he’d be shaken by the fact that his father, of all people, had passed away.  

He lies still, making eye contact with himself all the while as he tries to shift into what the feeling is supposed to be.   Remembering back to the way he felt when his grandfather died, someone he hardly knew, he finds that the sadness is for the end of a life and not necessarily the person.  He remembers relief for the poor guy to stop suffering, but that was cancer.  Blaine feels relief for himself, that he’ll never be beaten up again, although it’s been years since the last time.  

Grandpa had cancer; Christian was cancer.

He stares at himself as he furrows his eyebrows, as he reaches his finger up to brush against them, as he is aware of each of his blinks.  The walls are setting a thick foundation all around him as if he’s been placed in a body cast, suffocating his pores until he is ultimately immobile.  He lies, as still as a log, as each brick is laid down and the cement dries.  

Like his father, he’s properly turned to stone.  He knows he should inform Kurt of his transformation, but cement lying in his lungs seems to have taken all of his energy.  It’s the most depressing thing to think, but he knows that Kurt is used to the walls.  He’ll be able to figure it out sooner than later. 

Blaine’s not sure how much time has passed when Kurt knocks and lies behind him.  Kurt hooks his chin over Blaine’s shoulder and bores turquoise into gold, not for the last time in their lives, through the mirror.  

“Cooper will be here in the morning.  I told him we’d pick him up from the airport.”

Blaine can only nod.

Blaine’s sure that the best trait Kurt carries is his intuition.  By just looking at each other for less than a few seconds, Blaine knows Kurt understands that there is nothing that can fix the moment but a squeeze around his middle, so Blaine’s not surprised when that’s the next thing that comes.  Kurt’s grip around Blaine’s waist gets tighter, but more grounding, and Blaine allows his eyes to close, finally protected and safe with Kurt as his shield.  

They remain still for the rest of the morning, not quite sleeping but teetering on the edge of somewhere in between.  Wrapped in Kurt’s arms, Blaine starts to chip away at his walls, if only so he can create a peephole to see out of at the funeral.

Kurt shifts in his nap and startles suddenly, like he’s fallen out of a dream.  “Whoa.  Hi.”  He kisses Blaine’s temple and squeezes again, this time his palm meeting Blaine’s hip.  “You fell back asleep?”

“A little.”

“Okay.”  Kurt sits up and rubs his eyes; Blaine knows this, watching his every move in the mirror.  “Are you hungry?  I’ll make you something.”

Blaine turns and nuzzles into Kurt’s hip.  “It’s okay.”

“Okay, honey.  I’m right here if you need anything.”

“I love you.”

“Me too, Tiny.  Me too.”

“We’ll get up soon.  Go walk around or something?”

“Whatever you want.”

**xK &Bx**

“This really is a beautiful city.  It feels like New York but without all the… angst.”  
  
Blaine huffs as he swings their hands carelessly between them.  They walk aimlessly through Union Square, hand-in-hand and free.  “I’m really grateful you’re here, Kurt, especially… now.  Thank you for… how did Burt say it?  Peeling me off the floor?”

“He’s crazy.  I mean, I know I was a mess after the break up, but there was no peeling.”  Kurt smiles and stops them and hooks his arms around Blaine’s neck, pulling him in for a hard, rough kiss that’s usually reserved for the bedroom.  “I love you, honey.”

“Good.”  Blaine smiles after they mutually break the kiss.  “I love you too.  Hey, when Coop gets here, will you distract him?  He’s been texting me all day about how much an inheritance will apparently be worth all the pain and suffering and seriously, if he says that shit to my face, we’ll be having a double funeral in the lovely town of La-la-la-Lima.”

“Ugh.  Yeah, I gotchu, baby boyfriend.”

“Honestly, what would I have done without you here when I found out?”

“I probably would have come to you and made sure you didn’t find out until I was with you.”  Kurt smiles.  “I know you love when you can protect me, but it makes me feel good when you let me take care of you, too.  Just so you’re aware.”

“Thanks, pretty.  But I mean, what if this were to happen during that time we weren’t speaking?  I really don’t know what I would have done.”

“You don’t ever have to find out.  Now come on, we’ll have lunch down at the Wharf.  Then you can take me to that park you love.”

“Okay.  All of that is far from here, so let’s go get the car.  Then, maybe we can find Jimmy and Steve?  You could meet them tonight at QBar or something?”

“Perfect!”

“Okay, cool.  Just know that the boys out here are ruthless, so you will be picked up forty times in the first half hour we’re there.  You’ll be fresh meat to them.”

“Taken.”

“Hell yeah you are.”  Blaine lifts their hands up so he can kiss the back of Kurt’s.  They turn the corner so they’re on the block he lives on again, finds the car quickly, and proceeds to their next destination.

Blaine drives up and down hills, pointing out landmarks along the way.

“Okay.”  Blaine swallows and lifts his hands to hold them on top of the steering wheel as he speeds down a straightaway.  “Are you sure this whole let’s-go-to-Christian’s-funeral thing is a good idea?”

“Listen, Richie Rich.  I already changed my flight; I can’t afford to change it for the third time now.”

“I can-”

“Honey, I’m teasing.  I know you’re second-guessing this whole thing.  You’re going to see your mom and maybe some other family members that you don’t want to see, but closure is important and you are so strong for going through with it.”

“What if I’m not?  What if, after all of this, it turns out I’m just as much of a coward as I was in high school?”  This conversation is clearly bringing up old memories.  “Kurt, I literally just let him beat me up night after night because I honestly thought that was my destiny, liking boys the way I’m supposed to like girls.  That’s not strong.”

“Enough with this ‘the way I’m supposed to like girls’ crap, B!  That’s only implying that he’s right, that the only type of normal person is someone who can be attracted to the opposite sex.”

“I’m not strong like you, Kurt.  Even now, it’s sometimes in the back of my head about how it’s wrong.  How I should feel ashamed for loving another man.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“I know that.  It was just his influence I had growing up.”

“You’re brave.  You accepted what your life was at the time and dealt with it by avoiding the house as much as you could.  The Lima Bean was there and I’d like to think I made that part of your life better, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, let’s go do what we were going to do today, visit with Cooper when he gets here, and if we decide that we should cancel some flights, then we can.  But not before we talk it over thoroughly and weigh all the options.  I want you to think about it sincerely, and speak with your brother too because there will only ever be one funeral and I think you both may need it more than you’d think.”

“Fucking voice of reason.  Who taught you that?”

Kurt smiles and shrugs; Blaine recognizes how bashful he seems.  It’s adorable.  “I guess a combination of life experiences and the people I grew up around.”

“Remind me to thank them in my wedding vows.”

“Hey, Blaine?” 

“Hmmm?”

“When you’re sitting at your computer with your big, fancy English degree and you’re stumped on how to put your feelings about me into words in a creative way that would showcase your education in the UC system to the guests of our wedding reception, remember to thank my influences for being your voice of reason.”

“Duly noted.”  Blaine grins.  “Thanks, babe.”

“Keep driving, I want to be a tourist.”

“I could just turn east and we could head to Vegas.  I mean, I know how badly you want Coop to be your brother-in-law.”

“Blaine Anderson, I will be getting a legitimate wedding that we’ll have argued the details to death.”

“Okay, fine.  But you say the word and I’ll lock you up in holy matrimony and we’re throwing that key so far, you wouldn’t be able to find it even if you wanted to.”

Kurt grins and rolls his eyes at Blaine and they drive on, temperature soon burning the arms they have hanging out their respective windows.  It’s a good ten minutes later when Kurt laughs and says, “Ever the romantic, my boyfriend, Blaine Anderson.”

“You knew exactly how I am and you chose me anyway.”  Blaine laughs.  He merges finally into tourist traffic and they quickly come to an absolute stop, parked perfectly on a side street only the locals would know about.  “Welcome to Fisherman’s Wharf, pretty boy.”

**xK &Bx**

The music is pounding; it’s actually louder than Blaine remembers, in all of Britney’s glory.  Kurt’s arm is entangled with his as he leads him through the sea of people to get toward the corner where he usually meets up with Jimmy and Steve before they head inside.  It’s a busy night in the Castro and Kurt appears to be a bit out of his element in the large crowd of people just like him, so Blaine pulls him close and kisses his temple.

“They should be here any minute.”

Kurt looks at him with wide eyes, like he’s finally made it to heaven.  “Blaine, you live seconds from all of this.  This is amazing!”

QBar starts pumping out the vibration of Rihanna’s _Only Girl (In The World)_ and Blaine can’t help but take Kurt, just like the song says, and grind up against him.  His belly flips when he sees Kurt’s facial expression, like he might come right here and now, and stops abruptly with the catcalls of a few drag queens walking past.  

When Jimmy approaches, hand in hand with his beloved Steve, Blaine smirks and backs away from Kurt.  

“Giving them a show, Anderson?”

“No, but he is.”  He grins at Kurt then back to his friends.  “Hi guys.”

“Long time no see, player.  It’s like you have a fucking boyfriend or something.”

“Kurt Hummel.”  Kurt straightens his back and holds out his hand to Jimmy, who takes it heavily and shakes.  He turns to Steve, and mimics the movement.  “It’s so great to meet you guys!” 

“Well, shit.  I would turn celibate too, if it were for you.”

Blaine mumbles.  “Not celibate.”

Steve smiles at Kurt, seemingly as an apology for Jimmy’s crude behavior.  “Shall we?  It’s Britney night after eleven.”

“Of course it is.”  Blaine rolls his eyes and takes Kurt’s hand.  “Come on, babe.  Stay close; they’re vultures.”

The four of them form a single-file line as Blaine leads them straight to the bar.  The dance floor is more than packed, with the vibration of the latest Robyn song whistling through from their feet up.  He orders drinks for everyone and opens a tab, turning in Kurt’s cocoon of arms to deliver his vodka soda.  

“Thanks.”

Blaine bats his eyelashes as a response, fully deserving of the loud kiss Kurt plants in the center of his mouth.  

The night continues as Kurt and Steve scream at each other over the entirety of the _In The Zone_ album and Blaine watches them befriend each other with Jimmy at his side.  He watches as Kurt scrunches his nose up and slaps away wandering hands of a random from behind, then immediately searches for Blaine.  

The disco ball is twirling at full speed and Blaine has to get Kurt back in his arms this instant.  The worst possible song for right now comes on, and Blaine attaches himself to his boyfriend quickly and efficiently. 

_Baby, I can’t believe everything_   
_That I feel when I dance with you_   
_From the small of my back to the breath on my neck_   
_To the move you do_

He digs his nails into Kurt’s hips and turns him so his ass is rutting over Blaine’s cock.  Kurt definitely knows what he’s doing; he backs up on Blaine’s lower half until he’s a sputtering mess right there in the middle of the dance floor.  

“My _God_ , Kurt.”

“Want you.  Need you under me.”

“Let’s go home.”

“Need to say bye to your friends.”

“I’ll text them.  Come on.”

They rush around the corner and fuck until their brains come oozing out of their ears.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt breaks the kiss when his phone starts vibrating in his lap.  Blaine chases his lips as he pulls away, causing a childish giggle from the back of Kurt’s throat.  “Blaine, it’s probably Coop.”

“Don’t care.  Make me come.”   He attaches his lips back to his boyfriend’s and licks the inside of his mouth. 

“Blaine.  I’m not coming in an airport parking lot.  We just had sex last night.  Can we please go get your brother?”

Blaine climbs into his seat.  “Whatever.”

“How are you still a teenager?”

Blaine rolls his eyes at Kurt and hops out of the car, waiting for Kurt to come around the back.  “I’m not still a teenager.”

“I knew you when you were a teenager and your sex drive has remained exactly the same.”  Kurt looks at him and smiles, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together.

“Yeah but you never dated you.  Of course I’m gonna want to have sex all the time with Kurt Hummel!”

Kurt can only shake his head as he digs out his phone again, answering Cooper’s call this time.  “Hey Coop, we’re on our way in now.”  He waits for a response.  “What?  You have?”  He looks at Blaine with wide eyes and a grin.  “He’s been calling us for twenty minutes.”

Blaine grabs the phone from Kurt and huffs into it.  “Fucking cockblock.”  

Cooper’s clearly laughing at him as Blaine continues on through the grumbles of not being able to have sex in the airport parking lot.  As Blaine speaks candidly for anyone to hear while Kurt holds the door open for him, Cooper laughs.  All the way through baggage claim until they’re face to face with Cooper, Cooper laughs and he laughs even harder when Blaine hangs up and gives Kurt the phone before he approaches his big brother and falls into his arms.  

Kurt watches them from a distance, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head.  He smiles when Cooper whispers something into Blaine’s hair and Blaine can only respond with a nod in his brother’s arms.

Cooper lets go of Blaine and skips over to Kurt, capturing his body and squeezing tight.  He sways them, as friends do, and lets go, winking at his brother’s new boyfriend.  

“This is giving me so much déjà vu, it’s unbelievable.  Thank God you two got your heads our of your asses.”

“Well, that depends-” Blaine chimes in.  Kurt backhands him roughly across his chest.  

The three turn and start making their way out of the airport.  Kurt can’t help but grin at the fact that he has a brother again in Cooper.  Although he would never dream of replacing Finn under any circumstance, it’s nice to have someone present at anytime who isn’t a boyfriend.

It boggles Kurt’s mind how Blaine and Cooper interact with each other.  

Cooper jumps up and down, and hugs Kurt properly.  “Dude!  Fuck!  I’ve missed you!”

“Okay, get off me.  Missed you too.  Leave me alone.”  Kurt brushes himself off and raises an eyebrow at Cooper, laughing hard at the defeated face that greets him.  He watches as Blaine and Cooper hug again, tighter and longer than usual, and when they break apart, Kurt offers Blaine his hand.

Blaine takes it and squeezes it as Cooper leads the way blindly to the parking lot.

Kurt shrugs and looks at Blaine, who is staring into nothing as they walk.  There’s something wrong, like something is hitting him just now after he’s had a day to process.  The death of anyone’s father, regardless of how terrible he was, needs to be dealt with accordingly.

“Blaybee.”  Kurt sputters, tripping over two words at once.   

Blaine turns, smirking at him.  “What did you just call me?”

Kurt laughs so hard, he thinks he must be purple in the cheeks.  “I tried to say baby and Blaine at the same time.”  He sighs to catch his breath and smiles at Blaine.  “And it came out all wrong.  What I was going to say is… umm, are you okay?  You seem very deep in thought.”

When Blaine only stares at him with a self-deprecating smile plastered to his face, Kurt tilts his head and looks to Cooper.  “Coop.  Is it a good idea to go to the funeral?”

“Honestly, I was only going because Blaine said you guys are going.  Mom’s obviously going to be there, and probably some other people we haven’t had to face in a while.”  They get to the car and Kurt opens the trunk.  Cooper throws his overnight bag there and climbs into the back seat while Kurt and Blaine situate themselves in the front.

“I know, but if we don’t go, would that make us exactly like him?  I think I’m going to try to forgive him, now that he’s gone.  I almost wish I came to the revelation when he was still alive.”  Blaine pipes in and starts to drive away from the airport, back up and down the hills and valleys of San Francisco, making their stomachs drop when he takes them too fast.

“Is that something that you think you could realistically do?”  Kurt asks, concerned for the mental health of both his boyfriend and best friend.

“There’s only one way to find out.  I’m going to attempt to go and know that we can always go to Burt’s if it doesn’t work.”

Cooper stares at Blaine in the rearview mirror, who’s looking over at Kurt, who’s staring back at Blaine.  Time stands still in this moment, as if they’re not there together facing the truth just yet.  Kurt will never know the feeling of being completely certain of the hate in his heart toward his father, but he can identify with hating Christian because he defintely does.  Christian Anderson is dead; he’s no longer breathing.  In their own separate and very unique ways, both Blaine and Cooper will have been broken just a little bit more and it’s Kurt’s responsibility to glue them all together again.

It’s actually quite terrifying to think about how much Blaine’s matured in only a few years.  Kurt can only quietly observe as Blaine talks with his brother, mapping out a verbal pros and cons list for going to Ohio, although their tickets are already booked and paid for.  It’s funny how one major event turns Blaine’s entire world upside down in a way that he needs to deal with immediately.  It’s like Blaine resorts back to his old self with an added plethora of life experience and knowledge, common sense bleeding through until it’s palpable.  As they talk, Kurt tunes out the words and focuses on the facial expressions.

Kurt watches as Blaine runs his fingers through his hair, and as Cooper mimics the exact move.  It’s such an Anderson quality and although they are currently discussing the very person who gave them that trait, Kurt still loves them both even more for it.  To have been raised by the monsters that are their parents, Kurt is so proud to have them both in his life as two of the most cared-about people in his world.  

“Cooper!  What the fuck?  I need you to support me!”

“I do!  I just don’t think it’s a good idea to not talk to anyone.  Bite your tongue of what you really want to say for a few hours and make friendly conversation or whatever and then we can be done!”

“I can’t believe I survived him.”  Blaine sobs, simultaneously breaking Kurt’s heart in half.

In an instant, they are in a random parking lot and Blaine throws his head into his hands and cries, probably for himself more than the loss of Christian.  Cooper and Kurt sit still, clearly on the same page of realizing when Blaine needs to let all of his bottled emotions out.

It’s when Blaine can hardly catch his breath that Kurt needs to step in, if only for his own sanity.  “Okay, B.  Take long, deep breaths and come back to me honey.”  Kurt gets out of the car and crosses to Blaine’s side.  He opens his door and crouches down in front of him.  “Come on.  Look at me; blink away those tears.  You survived him so perfectly and now, you get to move on to so much more.  Baby, he died because someone in the prison fought him back.  He called someone a faggot and they were physically strong enough to put him in his place.  He had like two hundred pounds on both of us, there’s no way in hell we could have done anything like that.  I know it’s hard and it’s bringing up all these unanswerable questions… please, come back to me and I’ll help you move on.”  Kurt tilts his head and looks up at Cooper.  “The both of you.  I can’t have either of you crumble and I’m going to be here until I know that you won’t.”

Cooper wordlessly wraps his arms around his baby brother from behind with the back of Blaine’s seat in the middle.  Blaine cries into Cooper’s temple and Kurt sits back on the balls of his feet, watching them intently as Cooper whispers something that sounds like “you’re okay” into Blaine’s hair.  It’s a sweet gesture, and Kurt feels wetness in his own eyes, all of a sudden, clearly as part of the aftermath of sorting his thoughts that a member of the Anderson family died today.  He misses Finn more than anything in the world, in this moment, but he needs to power through because now is not the time for that.  

He lifts himself to his feet and gets back in the car. He takes Blaine’s hand, entwining their fingers together.  The three of them sit there for upwards of a half hour until all seems to have calmed down.

Cooper finally breaks the silence after Kurt threatens him with his squinted eyes.  “Um, are you guys hungry?”

“Starved.”  Blaine whispers.  “Can we go out?  I want to take Kurt to Aziza.  Think we can get in?”

“I’ll call them.”  Cooper sits back and yanks his phone out of his pocket.  He searches for the phone number and quickly makes a miraculous reservation for seven o’clock.  He hangs up the phone and frowns at Kurt and Blaine.  “Uh, I was invited right?”

Kurt laughs and looks at Blaine who smiles.  

“Of course, doofus.”  Kurt rolls his eyes.

“Okay.”  Cooper laughs.  “The reservation is at seven.”  He nods at them and looks out the window; the tourist tour for Kurt was interrupted by the sudden outburst of emotions regarding Christian fucking Anderson.

Kurt untangles their hands and smiles as Blaine drives away, fixing the radio.

Kurt sits up straight.  “You’re gonna be okay?”

“Always.  You’re around.”

“Borderline barf, Anderson.  Careful with that.”

They get back to Blaine’s apartment with a few hours to spare, so they deem it necessary to dress a bit for dinner.

Blaine is futzing around in the bathroom so when Kurt is finished changing, he wanders around the apartment until he finds Cooper in the guest bedroom.

“Hey.”

Cooper smiles at him in the mirror.  “Dude, it’s so… not normal to see you in person in California.  It’s tripping me out.”

“Well get used to it.  I’m gonna stick around for a while.”  Kurt sits on the corner of the bed and watches him fix his hair with the same face Blaine makes – tongue sticking out and furrowed eyebrows.

“He’s going to be fine.”

“I know that.  But I still worry about the time between now and fine.”

“Does he really want to go to Ohio?”

“I don’t know if he ever did, but I think we still will.  Don’t unpack yet.”  Kurt grins and turns his head to see Blaine leaning up against the frame of the door.  He’s clearly watching Kurt as he answers Cooper in a way that hardly gives Kurt away. Kurt couldn’t be less sure if they are actually going to Ohio in the morning.  “Ready, hot stuff?”

Blaine rolls his eyes and smiles, walking across the room to sit behind Kurt on the bed.  He spreads his legs so Kurt can shimmy back and up in between them, leaning his back to Blaine’s chest.

“Coop, seriously.  Let’s go.”  Blaine says, then places three light kisses on Kurt’s temple.  “Why do you insist on redoing your entire morning routine?”

“Agents reside in San Francisco too, B.  Weekenders on their way to Napa?”

“Whatever. Wanna go to In and Out instead, babe?”

“No.”  Kurt laughs at Blaine’s sulking.  “Be patient.”

“You guys aren’t allowed to be friends.  I hate when you gang up on me.”

Kurt and Cooper laugh at him.  

“I love you?”  Kurt twists his neck back to look at Blaine and smiles.  “I’ll always choose you over Coop, I promise.”

“Oh, gee.  Thanks.”

“You give me way more than he ever could.”

Cooper stops what he’s doing and watches them.  “Kurt, wanna go have sex?”

Blaine squints his eyes at Kurt then Cooper and sighs.  “Can we go?  Please?”

“Relax, honey.  He’s kidding.”  Kurt stands and offers his hand.

“I know that, I just want to go.”  He sighs.  “You’re such an asshole, Coop.”

**xK &Bx**

Dinner is fabulous.  Aziza is perfect as always and the company Blaine has with him couldn’t be better.  Sure, he’s sad and conflicted about the death of his father, but he chooses to take Cooper’s lead in the mourning process, and Kurt is here.  No matter what, he’ll be okay with Kurt finally with him again.

He needs to go to this funeral, if only to face the devil that lives inside his mother’s side of the family.  He hasn’t really seen anyone in so long so he’s not sure who would even show up after all of the public family drama.  From what he can remember, his father’s family were decent, and they all are from California actually, if he remembers correctly.

“Do you think Dad’s family from California will be there?”  

They’re waiting for their dessert they decide to splurge on.  Blaine leans back in his chair and looks at Cooper then Kurt. “I mean, when Grandpa died… according to that letter you gave me from him, they seem cool.”

“We’ll see if they show, Squirt.”

“Aren’t they from here somewhere?”  Kurt asks.

“Cooper here refuses to tell me how close either of us live from them.  I assume it’s very close but I have no way of knowing because my big brother loves to pretend he can protect me like I’m eleven.”

Cooper rolls his eyes.  “I am trying to protect you, in case they all have a fucking problem with you because Dad did.  He has a sister who lives in Huntington Beach, and his brother lives in Grandpa’s old house.”

“Coop, no offense or anything… but I can only assume that people born and raised in LA, of all places, are probably okay with our being gay.  Is that wrong to think?”

“In theory, pretty.  He’s just nervous because Dad was from LA too and wound up brainwashed by my mother and her family. Maybe the rest of them could have been brainwashed too.”

“I understand that, but that isn’t very likely if they’re still here.”

“Uncle Paul lives in West Hollywood.”  Cooper chimes in, as if that much is supposed to make a point.

“I’m pretty sure he’d be okay with it, considering he has Pride knocking on his door every single year.  Right?  At the very least, he’d be able to tolerate us?”

“I’m just irrationally weary and nervous.  I can’t stop associating them with him.”

“That’s understandable, honey.  But maybe they’ll surprise you.”

Blaine looks at Kurt and nods.  “If I need to leave, we can just go.  No questions asked?”

Kurt smiles.  “You jump, I jump.”

Blaine smiles at him and squeezes his palm around Kurt’s wrist.

“You guys are disgusting.”  Cooper laughs, which sends them all into a fit of giggles right when their hot Brazilian waiter comes back with the surely impeccable dessert and coffee.  Blaine watches as Kurt savors a bite and moans softly around his fork, and he has to look away so he’s not too affected by the sounds.

When they finish up, Kurt tries to thrust his credit card into the waiter’s hand, but Blaine beats him to it with cash.  Kurt slumps in his seat and gives Blaine a look that could kill.  Blaine laughs at him and winks.  

Cooper shrugs and says, “Thanks for dinner, bro.” 

They stand, thanking the waiter, and head for the door.  Blaine has a hand situated lightly on the small of Kurt’s back as he leads him outside, and it’s all he can do but feel the warmth through his veins when Kurt looks back at him and smiles over his shoulder.  He hands the ticket to the valet attendant and they wait.  

Cooper keeps busy watching a set of three girls also waiting for their cars.  He inches closer to them, clearly attempting to start a conversation.

Kurt snuggles into Blaine’s arm and sighs.  “I want you closer.”

“Mmmm?”  Blaine inches closer to Kurt’s body, only causing Kurt to giggle and take a step back.

“Not physically right now, although I guess I’ll take it.  I mean that I want to come back to California with you after you leave Ohio.”

“You do?  It’s already basically April.”

“Vacation for a month and a half and then we can figure out what we want to do long term.  I really like it here, B, and not just because you’re here.”

“Oh, I see how it is.”

Kurt laughs and turns his head to look at Cooper, who is now picking up each and every one of those girls a hundred feet away.  “I just… want to spend more time with you and I can’t do that from halfway across the country.  I want to familiarize myself with another city, and San Francisco is like New York without all the poison.”

“You said it was without the angst.”  Blaine is grinning; this is an awesome idea and he can’t wait.

“All of the above.”

“Move in with me for two months?”

Kurt nods.  “Okay, fine.  If you insist.”

“I hate you so much.  You’re the one who suggested it!”

“Uh huh.  Love you, too.”  Kurt bops the tip of Blaine’s nose and breaks away to hand the valet attendant a twenty before getting in the passenger’s seat.  The Andersons follow suit and they’re off into the dinner rush traffic in the big city.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Blaine fidgets in his seat and leans heavier onto Kurt’s side as he continues to nap.  He moans lightly in his sleep and Kurt shamelessly pulls him closer.  Blaine’s eyes flutter open, focusing finally on Kurt’s face.  He blinks a few times and pushes himself up to sit straight and stares at the television screen in front of him.  Kurt watches him closely, as he’s still sleepy and adorable with every movement.

Blaine turns his head and looks at Kurt.  “How are we getting to Lima?”

“Dad said he’d pick us up.”

“Thanks, pretty.  You work well under pressure.”

Kurt laughs and wraps his hand in one of Blaine’s.  “So I’ve been told.”

“Mmmm.”

Kurt sees the glint in Blaine’s eye as he smiles then wipes it away with a tired rub.  Kurt watches as Blaine turns to stare out the window.  They’re over the clouds, flying over the country like they’re invincible, and this week they’ll have to be.

Kurt sighs and unbuckles his seatbelt.  “I’ll be right back.  Bathroom.”  Really, he just needs a minute by himself in the back of the plane to gather his thoughts so he can remain strong for his Blaine in what will probably be one of the worst weeks of his life.

He engages in mindless conversation with the flight attendant as he waits for the bathroom stall to be free, and when it finally is he steps inside sideways and sits on the closed toilet seat with his head in his hands.

**xK &Bx**

Blaine hates to see Kurt leave, but he loves to watch him go.  He snaps out of it when Kurt disappears into the bathroom stall and punches at Cooper’s shoulder across the aisle.  “Dude!  Kurt saw the ring.”

Cooper startles out of his trance. “What?  We’re there?”

“The ring, Coop.  Kurt saw it.  I carry it everywhere and forgot to take it out of my pocket before we went through security.”

“Shit.”

“They made me put it in its own tray and run it through the X-Ray.  He was gathering our stuff already by the time I got to the other side and he just… handed it back to me, smirked, and walked away.”

Cooper laughs.  “Seriously, you two are hilarious.  Who cares?  He would have said something if it was something he didn’t want.  He just walked away?”

“Yes!  I had to run to catch up with him.  He was already halfway through the Starbucks line when I finally found him.  I wanna blow his mind with it; I just wanted it to be a surprise and now everything is ruined.”

“I can assure you it was a surprise.”  Kurt climbs over Blaine and sits down again.  He looks at Blaine, who is laughing gently as he turns red from being caught again.  “It didn’t freak me out as much as I thought it would, considering we just got back together.  You know what, though, Blaine?  I’m not stupid; I can’t see myself ever marrying someone who isn’t you, so nothing else really matters.  That part of us is inevitable, isn’t it?”

Blaine swallows and nods shyly.  He can’t find words to save his life.

“Besides, Cooper and I were trying to figure out which night you would do it so I could get a little more dressed up than normal because it’s important that our engagement photos look divine.  His snooping fell through because…” Kurt whispers the last part, “Your brother’s kind of an idiot.”

“Oh my God!  Coop, I’m going to kill you!”

“I did not do any of that!  Kurt, why do you have to lie?  You know he’s going to believe you!”

“Not lying.”  Kurt buckles his seatbelt and leans to rest his head on Blaine’s shoulder, clearly signaling that the conversation is over.

“Coop, how could you?  I specifically asked you _not_ to tell him.”

“I was looking out for you!  You know you’d be dead if you proposed some place where he was totally unprepared!”

Kurt lifts his head up and smiles at Blaine, nodding in a way that mocks what Cooper is saying.  Blaine huffs.  

“That’s not true.  Kurt, shit!  Ugh, everything is ruined.”  Blaine slumps in his seat, feeling rather defeated.  Even the details of the proposal are pissing him off to the point where he’s second-guessing even going through with it.  He’s always been under a lot of pressure to live up to what Kurt expects, and it feels like it’s all coming to a head now that he knows about his plans.  “Forget it.”

“Hey.  Stop freaking out.  You and I both know these little outbursts have so little to do with us, and everything to do with the fact that we’re going to Ohio to bury your dad.  Let’s focus on one thing at a time and re-visit the marriage conversation after we survive this.”

Blaine feels like he’s been punched in the chest.  “That’s why I want to marry you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know I’m out of control before I even start to feel it.  I’ll never be knocked down again with you around.  You give me… life security.  It’s you who-”

“Shhhh.”  Kurt smiles into a chaste kiss and keeps his lips up close after they connect.  “You need to save all the sap for when you have enough room to get down on one knee.”  He nips at Blaine’s bottom lip and pulls back.  “I refuse to get engaged on a domestic flight on our way to a funeral.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”  Kurt places his head back onto Blaine’s shoulder.  “Get some rest before the whirlwind.”

“You too, sir.  You can’t just… hold me up the whole time if you’re not well rested.”

“Uh huh.”

**xK &Bx**

“It really is good to see you boys, even if it’s under such unfortunate circumstances.”  Burt shrugs and looks at Blaine through the rearview mirror.

“You too.  Thanks again for letting us stay, Mister H.”  Cooper smiles.  

“It’s Burt, Cooper.  That’s the last time I tell you.”

They’re riding to the church where the funeral is taking place the following afternoon.  Blaine brushes his suit more than enough times as Cooper keeps Carole and Burt entertained with details about his life in Los Angeles.  Kurt watches, with pain on his face, and eventually grabs Blaine’s hand and entwines their fingers.  It’s an effort to keep from Blaine fidgeting with nerves.

“Stop.  You’re fine.”

“Is it okay if I hold your hand when we get in there?”  Blaine nearly whispers the words, like he’s a scared little Jewish boy being driven to his concentration camp.

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?”  Kurt regrets asking the question as soon as he turns to look at Blaine’s distraught, tense, spooked eyes.  “Oh, honey.  Of course, it’s okay.  We’re almost there, just try to breathe.”

“‘Try’ being the operative word.”

“You’re going to get through this.  Build the wall up again; I’ll help you break it down later.  You’re allowed to be a dick to whomever you want, especially today.”

Burt parks in the nearest available spot and shuts off the car.  Cooper and Carole go quiet and everyone seems to be waiting for Blaine to make the first move.  Kurt swallows and turns his hips to face Blaine’s body, biting his lower lip all the while.  

“We’re here.”  Kurt looks at Blaine and rubs his knuckles up and down his forearm.  “Ready?”

“Let’s do this, pretty boy.”  

“Okay!  Everybody out!”

Cooper scrambles to push his door open, nearly falling out of the car.  Kurt slides out next and waits for Blaine to scoot over.  Carole and Burt join them outside.  It’s suddenly a group of four waiting for a party of one but just as Kurt goes to stick his head back into the open door, Blaine opens his own door and drifts out and around the car.  Kurt unbends and licks his lips as he watches Blaine stroll toward him, clearly with a thick wall surrounding his small and fragile body.  He’s so proud of his boyfriend for being able to enclose himself in a protective bubble when he most needs it, but he’s scared that it’ll take a lot to break it down later.  Kurt will deal with that when he has to.

Burt, Carole, and Cooper start walking toward the entrance, presumably to give the couple a few seconds of reprieve.  

“God, Kurt.  I love how you look in a suit.”

“Mmmm, can you imagine our wedding suits?”

“Mmmm,” Blaine laughs, “I haven’t even-”

“It doesn’t matter.  I don’t care.  I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

Blaine holds out his elbow and Kurt takes the hint, threading his arm through Blaine’s.  They start to walk behind their family, Kurt still talking, in an effort to keep Blaine’s mind off of what’s happening right this instant.

“When are you proposing, anyway?  Cooper wasn’t half wrong when he said that I would be mad if I didn’t look great when you do.”

“You always look crazy good.  Don’t worry about it.”

“Do _you_ even know when you’re doing it?”

“Kurt.”  Blaine looks around, probably spotting dozens of familiar faces.  He stops and untangles himself from Kurt, who has officially made their arms into a human pretzel.  He grabs at Kurt’s cheeks and kisses the tip of his nose.  “I actually have no idea.”  He shrugs and lets go of Kurt’s face.  “I’ve had the ring in my pocket for months.  I bought it before we even broke up the first time.  Then I taped it to the back of a picture frame where it stayed for two years.  I truly have no idea when I’m going to ask you to be my husband but now that the cat’s out of the bag, I might just keep leading you on.  Just know that it will happen at exactly the perfect moment.”  Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and starts to walk again.

“Of course it will be a perfect moment!  This whole thing couldn’t get more perfect.”

“I’m never marrying you if you’re going to make me puke daily, Hummel.”

“Awww, B.  Please marry me.”

“No.”

“I’m gonna getcha.  Watch.”

“Whatever.”

“Blaine?”

Kurt looks up into the very tall, very Irish, very round man staring down on them.  He’s not sure why this man seems so important, like he may change their whole lives right here and now.  When Blaine drops Kurt’s hand and looks down to the ground, though, Kurt thinks he might need to second-guess the undeniable comfort he originally felt around this family member.

“Hi, Uncle Paul.”

“Oh, Blaine.  It’s been too long.  Cooper says you’re in California, now.”

“I am.  I’m about to graduate from Berkeley, live off-campus in San Francisco.”

Uncle Paul nods, eyes drifting every few seconds to Kurt.

“Why don’t we sit together?  All the way in the back, where your mother can’t find us.”  Blaine’s uncle winks at him and nudges Kurt, clearly in the know of everything that’s happened.  

“Um, yeah.”  Blaine looks at Kurt.  “Sure.  Uh, this is Kurt.  His parents are here, too, so… I’ll just.”  Blaine nods and goes to get Burt, Carole, and Cooper so they can all sit close together.

Kurt smiles at Paul.  “Unfortunate circumstances, but nice to meet you.  I’m Kurt.”  He extends his hand and Paul takes it in both of his.

“The infamous Kurt.  Thank you for keeping our Blaine safe when the rest of us were unable.  And we heard about you.  I’m terribly sorry we couldn’t be there for you both after Christian, after my brother… well.  We’re here now.  For you.  For you and for Blaine.”  

Kurt can only nod, words shocked out of him at how supportive Christian Anderson’s brother is being.  They’re polar opposites.  

“What?  Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just can’t… I can’t believe _he_ was _your_ brother.  You’re…  I can tell you have a heart.”

Uncle Paul smiles solemnly at Kurt just as Blaine returns with Carole on his arm, who’s pulling Cooper and Burt along as well.  Sweet hellos and introductions are gathered and Uncle Paul leads the way into the church stealthily so the Anderson boys aren’t bothered again.  

Blaine looks at Kurt, follows his line of vision to the man sitting in the pew waiting for Paul to return, and promptly looks back to Kurt.  

Kurt lifts his eyebrows and widens his eyes.  “We knew this was going to be challenging, baby... but I think it just got a hell of a lot easier.”  Kurt is grinning like he’s responsible for the sunlight today; it’s as if he’s trying to rid himself of any negativity they originally planned for.

“Blaine Anderson, meet my _husband_ , Gus.”

“Husband.”  Blaine says it like an epiphany, eventually snapping out of it to shake his hand and introduce everyone else.  “Um, great to meet you.  This is… Burt, Carole, my brother Cooper, and Kurt.”  Blaine sits next to Paul in the pew and pulls at Kurt’s hand.  “My boyfriend.”

Kurt bites his lip around yet another bright grin and intertwines his fingers with Blaine’s. 

Cooper leads Burt and Carole into the pew directly across the aisle from where Kurt and Blaine settle, and Kurt’s grateful for the privacy.  Maybe Blaine will loosen the walls and talk openly with just his uncle there.

**xK &Bx**

The organist is playing a weird, slow tempo version of Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville and it makes Blaine feel uneasy.  Kurt’s hand is heavy in his, squeezing with all his might for either comfort or strength.  He turns his head to stare at his uncle’s hand, intertwined with this other man Blaine’s just met.  Their wedding rings are identical and expensive-looking and are as though they belong right where they’re set.  Blaine turns his head again, this time to look at Kurt.  Of course, Kurt must feel his eyes on him as expected, so he turns to meet them.  

“Hi.”

“Thank you for coming with me, pretty.  You _really_ didn’t have to.”

“Shut up.”  Kurt places a kiss on his lips.  “I’m here because I want to be.  Now say a prayer or whatever for your father.”

“A little late for that, boys.”  Paul leans over closer to Blaine and throws an arm around his shoulders, grinning at him.  “You okay, kiddo?”

Blaine shrugs.  His Uncle Paul is suddenly reminding him a lot of Burt.

He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling of mourning yet happiness he has deep in his bones right now, even if he tried.  Without Christian Anderson, Blaine wouldn’t have had a life at all, regardless of how shitty his childhood was.  On the other hand, though, Blaine’s really not sure if living at all was worth the childhood he endured if he had to grow up to be something he hated so much.  Or at least, that’s what it would have been if Kurt Hummel didn’t singlehandedly turn his life around when he was seventeen.

He has everything he could ever want now, but it took such a long time to get here and he’d like to blame it on the trust issues he has because of Christian.  He squeezes Kurt’s hand tighter and looks at his uncle.  “Yeah.  I’m fine.”

It’s true.  Blaine has never meant “ _I’m fine_ ” more seriously ever before in his life.  But he is.  Finally, after all of that, he’s fine.  He has this bubble of support all around him and he can’t help but tear up at the thought.  It wasn’t even ten years ago that he had no one at all, and now… well, now it just feels like he’s living someone else’s life – someone else who deserves all the love and gratitude.  He’s here today not to see his mother or reconcile a ten-year-old miscommunication between distant family members; he’s here for the closure and Kurt’s words finally – _finally_ – make sense.  It’s all about forgiving and forgetting and moving on without the burden of Christian Anderson.

He’s shocked to find that the church is slowly filling to the max.  People from every walk of Christian’s life are here to pay their respects to a man who certainly hasn’t earned the right to be mourned, but to each his own.  He doesn’t realize that the service has started until he watches the closed coffin carried inside and down the aisle by men he mostly doesn’t recognize.  He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Kurt dabs at his cheek with a tissue, and smiles sadly when their eyes meet.  

“You’re okay.”  Kurt whispers, and he is.  They’ve already established this.

The priest is going on and on about unfortunate circumstances based on a bed of exaggeration, so Blaine starts to count how many fingernail marks he can put in the back of the pew in front of them.  He feels like he’s about eight years old, waiting for his parents to stand so he knows when to stand.  He sits when they do and he repeats “and also with you” as instructed, just like the good old days.

“That was fucking bullshit.  He didn’t say one word even remotely true about the asshole.”

Blaine looks at Gus and can’t help but smile when he gets flustered, clearly afraid he may have said the wrong thing.  “My thoughts exactly.”  He laughs.  “Hey.”  He leans over Paul and bends so Gus can hear his words.  “How long have you been with my uncle?”

The bright smile on Gus’s lips reminds him of when Kurt came skipping down the arrivals hallway at the airport in San Francisco only a week ago.  Blaine’s heart actually palpitated at the sight of Kurt’s grin, a showcase of proof that Kurt loves no one else before Blaine.

“Eleven years.  Why do you ask?”

“You proposed or he did?”

“He did, but I was planning my own and that old hag just beat me to it.”

“He didn’t.  He merely bought the ring the night before I ‘beat him to it.’”

“I’m gonna need some help… with that.  I mean, I’ve had the ring but now it’s kinda burning a hole in my pocket and I want it on his finger.”  He straightens to nudge his shoulder with Kurt’s and smiles at him.

Paul and Gus shift their eyes to Kurt in caution, causing Blaine and Kurt to laugh loudly.  Blaine covers Kurt’s mouth because he’s being obnoxious, which only forces another loud cackle out of Kurt, muffled and so not silenced.

“He knows already.  He found out at the airport when the fucking security dude gave me away.”

Cooper turns his head and gives him a look, which drags Kurt’s mouth into Blaine’s shoulder to muffle the giggles some more.

“Oh my God, Kurt.”  Blaine laughs and kisses his head.  “My mom is looking right at us.  Stop!”

Kurt removes his head from Blaine’s shoulder and looks at Sondra, waving delicately with his fingers.

Paul follows their distraction and laughs along.  “You are instigating her.”

“Awww, but it’s so fun.”  Kurt exclaims, only a bit too loud for a funeral service in a church and it takes everything in Blaine to not die of laughter.  

Soon after, the same unfamiliar men carry the casket back outside toward the hearse and the religious service is over as quickly as it began.  The priest asks everyone to hurry to their cars, as the procession line to the cemetery is to begin in exactly fifteen minutes.   Blaine remains seated, sending Morse code messages to Kurt to stay put.  He wants to be the last out of the church.

Paul and Gus leave them alone, as do Kurt’s parents and Coop.

“Okay?”  

Blaine lets Kurt play with his fingers and stare at him.  He takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly.  “Mmm.  I’m just trying to… feel something.”

“About him?  Haven’t we felt enough over the years?  Come on, babe.  We can move on, now.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  I’m over this.  Can we just go home… or maybe to dinner with my uncle?  I really like them.”

“Me too.  I had a good feeling about him when Cooper was telling me about him.”

“Is this what it looks like to finally be happy with my life, Kurt?”

Kurt smiles at him.  “This is exactly that feeling, honey.  Let’s go find the family.”

Blaine tugs Kurt out of the church.  “Hurry, pretty!  Before we combust in flames.”

“You are actually the least funny person in the whole world, you know.”

**xK &Bx**

“Shit!”  Blaine snaps out of his mold of happiness and runs to his uncle, who’s found bleeding from his head on the concrete.  Blaine falls to his side and cradles his head next to Gus.  “Kurt!  Fucking find Carole!”

“I lost control, fuck!  Shit, it fucking hurts.  Little prick.”

The blood isn’t stopping.  Kurt pulls Blaine out of the way as Carole works to put pressure on the wound.  

“You’re okay, honey.  Cooper here is going to find us some tissues, and an ambulance is on its way.  Talk to me, Paul.  Who did this?  What happened?”  Carole babbles, clearly trying to get an answer out of Paul so he doesn’t fall asleep, deep into a coma.

“The prick on your mom’s side, Squirt.”

“There are so many.”  Blaine looks up and around him.  He locks eyes with a group of his cousins, including Parker – the cousin on his mom’s side that taught him how to build the walls in the first place.  When he came out to his family, he thought he’d have at least one ally when all was said and done, but Parker wound up being just as homophobic as all of them.

Blaine launches himself, running straight into Parker’s body, knocking him down and slamming him against the bricks of the church.  

“What the fuck, faggot?  Get the fuck off me.”

His ears are swimming, as Parker is egging him on by calling him all the names Christian once did.  He pounds his fist into his cousin’s nose as hard as he can over and over again until Cooper and Kurt work to pull him off.  He’s thrashing and kicking up toward him, positively out of his mind.  “I could fucking kill you right now, little bitch!”

Blaine wiggles out of Cooper and Kurt’s hold and walks away, running his fingers through his hair to un-matte it.  He finds a good corner to lean up against behind the church and pulls out a cigarette.  He stares at an individual blade of grass and shifts when Kurt comes up next to him and mimics his stance.  They stand together until Blaine finishes his cigarette, until he throws it on the ground, until he stomps on it with all of his might.  

Blaine looks up at Kurt and digs for his wallet in his back pocket and hands it off to him.  “I’m about to be arrested and then I need you to bail me out.  Open the wallet.”

“Blaine.”

“No!  Shut up and listen to me!  I’m fucking taking care of us this time, and I swear to God if you don’t let me show you which debit card to use, then I’ll have to spend a night in jail and I really can’t.  Okay?  Just let me save myself, this time.”

Kurt nods and opens the wallet.  He studies the neatness of it all.  

“Come here, Kurt.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”  Blaine wipes his hands off on his pants of any dried blood that may still be stuck to his lips and leans in to taste Kurt.

“You’re fine.  I told you before you’re allowed to be a dick to whoever today and it’s all forgiven.”  Kurt smiles.  “Not that you were just…” He sighs.  “Tell me more about your credit cards.”

Blaine smiles.  “Okay, so the top card’s account has like a hundred grand in it.  If you need more than that, take it from the one in the second slot, but that only has fifty in it.  There’s some cash, but not much, or you can use any of the credit cards.  Okay?  Give me my license, please?”

Kurt takes Blaine’s license out of the dedicated slot and stares at the picture for a few seconds.  He raises an eyebrow and hands it over. “What’s the pin?”

“Oh.  Ummm.  One, two, two, six.”  Blaine pockets his license and then reaches for Kurt’s hand.

“Twelve twenty-six.  December twenty-sixth.”

“Mmmhmm.”  They start to walk out from behind the building.  There’s something eerie about the fact that Christian is still in the back of a hearse, cold and dead, waiting to be buried.  

“My birthday.”

“Nope, just a random collection of numbers that I could never forget.”  Blaine looks at him, clearly for a reaction.

Kurt just rolls his eyes and changes the subject.  “We need to clean you up so I can frame your mug shot over our mantle.  Are you okay?”

Blaine laughs lightly then turns around abruptly when he hears his name.  None other than Sondra Anderson is running toward him.  He turns to keep walking.  “Just keep going, babe.”

“Blaine!”

Sondra marches right up to Blaine and slaps him hard across his cheek.

“Owww, what the fuck, bitch?”

“How dare you start a scene at your father’s funeral?  You should have stayed away, you cock-sucking little fairy.  And then you go and bring this abomination to church?  Are you crazy?”

“Uhhh.”  Kurt narrows his eyes at Sondra and takes Blaine’s hand again.

Blaine looks at him then down at their hands, intertwined, and lifts them both to kiss Kurt’s before letting it fall again.  It’s a small moment, but one that Blaine needs.  He breathes fire again.

“You invited us!  You called and told Burt the information!  Besides, I’m allowed to come to my father’s fucking funeral, with whoever I want, especially the man I love.  Also, your perfect little nephew started the scene by splitting Uncle Paul’s head open.  So... bye.”

“You deserve it, you all do.  Fucking faggots, I hope you burn in hell!”

Blaine laughs and looks at Kurt.  “I can’t even think of words to say.”  He ponders for a second then glances back toward his mother and sees the actual devil floating above her.  He swears she has a darkness more visible than ever before, and they need to get out of its way before it ruins their lives even more.  His walls are still up; everything will be fine later.  “Look at the time, we’ve gotta get going.  Babe?”  He takes Kurt’s hand again and they walk the hundred steps as calmly as possible.  Cooper trails behind, and Blaine can’t help but think it’s in case he needs a bodyguard.

“Blaine Devon, don’t you fucking dare walk away from me!  Cooper James!”

He doesn’t react; he only opens the back left door of Burt’s car and smiles at Kurt to go ahead of him.  Kurt kisses him lightly and they pile into the back seat.  

Carole immediately hands Kurt some wet wipes from the glove compartment and he turns to face Blaine.  

“I’m not sure if I ever knew your middle name.”  Kurt tilts his head and starts to wipe at his face.

“That’s because I kind of hate it.”

“It’s cute.  Blaybee is cuter.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow.  “Is that a thing, now?”

“Forever.”  Kurt works to wipe blood off Blaine’s face.  “You’re going to have a sexy-as-fuck shiner.  Oh, hey family.  Me and Blaine are going to be engaged soon.”

Burt laughs as Carole screams and Cooper’s shoulders shake from trying to hold in a pitiful giggle.  

“I shoulda known you’d find out before he actually did it, kid.  Can’t keep nothing from ya.”

“What?”  Kurt exclaims,  “You guys knew, too?”

“Of course they did, pretty.  I asked permission when I was here in February.”

Kurt looks at him and pouts his lips.  “You are actually the most adorable human.”  He plants a hard kiss directly to Blaine’s lips and holds still for a few extra seconds, to really drill it into Blaine’s head that he loves him more than he ever has.

“Something more, indeed.”

Blaine grins and winces at the same time.  “Love you too.”

“You good, bro?”

“I’m fine, Coop.  Thanks for being here, man.”

They sit in the car and watch the ambulance disappear, then the hearse.  They watch Parker point dramatically toward Burt in the driver’s seat, flailing his arms as he speaks with the cops. 

“Told you, Hummel.”  He opens the back door and kisses Kurt hard on the lips.

“Don’t say anything stupid.  Is this something a lawyer should be called for?”

“Nah, I got this.  Call you guys in a few hours.  Keep your cell phone on you, Kurt.  It’s the only number I have memorized.”  Blaine smiles and gets out of the car, starting to walk away.

“Blaine!”

“Huh?”

“They’ll make you empty your pockets.”

Blaine’s confused as to why Kurt would say such a thing, and then the feeling of the lead weight comes back.  He takes the box out of his pocket, and the ring out of the box.  “Promise to give this back to me when I need it to ask you officially?”

Kurt simply nods, eyes locked on the glint of the diamonds nestled securely in the band of platinum.

Blaine slips it onto Kurt’s finger and kisses over it.  “I love you, hubby.”

Kurt smiles, as if his heart is breaking.  “Love you too.  Call me when you know more.”

Blaine kisses him again and then he’s outside, being read his rights with his hands locked behind his back.

**xK &Bx**

Kurt makes Burt wait until Blaine is in the back of the police car and driving away until he allows them to go home.  He feels lost, empty, and incomplete without Blaine by his side.  His boyfriend has been arrested and he’s sitting at the dinner table with the rest of his family.  It doesn’t feel right.  He concentrates on cutting pieces of chicken as small as they’ll go, eyes flicking to the darkness of his phone screen every five seconds.  Cooper’s phone is also out on display, in the event of a change with Uncle Paul’s condition.

The four of them eat their takeout in silence, willing for any phone to ring.  When Kurt can’t take anymore of the wondering inside his head, he speaks up.

“He was arrested though, right?  So what do they need to do now?”

“Now, they process the arrest.  They’ll make sure he’s not wanted anywhere else and they’ll hold him there for a few hours just to gather all of the information.”  Burt supplies.  “He’s been arrested before in Ohio, so he might have to stay the night and he’ll see a judge first thing in the morning for arraignment.”

“Is that when they set the bail?  Dammit, he told me he absolutely cannot stay the night in jail.  I don’t want him there for the night!”

“Calm down, bud.  If they set the bail, it will be then.  They may not if the judge thinks it was an act of self-defense on behalf of his uncle lying on the ground bleeding.”

Cooper chimes in.  “I hope he plays the gay card.”

Kurt glares at him.  “Coop…”

“No, I’m serious!  Times are so different now, and although Ohio as a whole might not be there completely, so many people are more comfortable with it than when we were his age, even.  I hope he uses the gay card and I hope that the judge looks into his past before making a decision.”

“They will, Cooper.  Don’t worry.”  Carole smiles at the boys and they sit some more in silence.  

“Can we go to the arraignment?”

“Yes.  It’s open to the public.  We can go.  Blaine will be able to tell us what time it’s at when he calls.”

“Okay.”  Kurt twirls the ring on his finger, nervous that Ohio is not going to buy that Blaine is really a great kid.  “Can they even look at the last time he was arrested?  He wasn’t eighteen.”

“That I don’t know, kiddo.  Let’s just relax for a few more hours and he’ll call us with everything he knows.  Okay?  Maybe you can talk to Santana.  She probably knows more about this stuff than any of us.”

“What if he didn’t tell me everything?  What if he’s been arrested in California or something?  I fucking hate surprises.”

“Kurt!  You’re freaking out and I don’t know how to handle you like this.  Stop, it’s fine, he hasn’t been arrested since that one time, and everything will be fine.  He didn’t keep that from you, I swear.”  Cooper yells.

“Okay.”  Kurt nods.  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Three hours of Kurt pacing and lying on his bed and watching TV with Cooper and trying to read whatever is downloaded to his Nook app, and he’s fed up that the Lima Police Station can’t book his boyfriend in a timely manner.

“Coop.  Come on.  I’m going down there.”

“Did he call you?”

“No!  Don’t you think that’s weird?  I need to see him.”

“Kurt, buddy.  They will let him call when he’s able.  Come on, he’s okay.”

“Please, can we go down there?  Coop…”

“Come on, then.”

Cooper drives them down to the station where they wait it out some more.  Finally, what feels like six years later, Kurt’s phone rings with a random phone number.  He answers before the first ring morphs into the second.  

“Blaine?  That you?”

“Hey, babe.  Sorry it took so long.  You okay?”

“I’m okay.  Are you okay?  What did they say?”

“I’m done.  No arraignment needed.  Will you come get me, please?”

“Me and Coop are in the parking lot already.  You’re not being charged?”

“My cousin dropped them.  Have you guys heard from Gus?”

“Not yet, honey.  We can go to the hospital from here.”

“Okay.  They’re just running all the paperwork for me, so give me like twenty minutes.”

“I’ll grab coffee across the street.  So happy you’re okay, B.”

“Mmmm, love you my pretty.  See you in a few.”

**xK &Bx**

Like no time at all has passed, they’re suddenly upstairs in Burt’s house, ready for bed.  Cooper has since retreated to Finn’s room and they’re finally alone for the first time all night.  They’ve been to the hospital, where Uncle Paul is going to be fine.  They’ve been to Breadstix to grab a quick bite for Blaine since he was starving.  Now, they’re in each other’s arms ready to work on breaking down the walls.  Kurt is the big spoon as usual, and Blaine couldn’t be more grateful.

“I just want to relax, after that day, with my tiny little delinquent.”

“Of course.”  Blaine laughs.  “Wanna talk about our forever together?”

“My favorite topic.  But first, are you sure that you won’t have a warrant out for your arrest when we leave the state?”

“Babe, I told you.  It’s all fine.  I promise… now what about our future?”

“That _is_ part of our future!  You know, I usually forget you’re twenty-four, but you’re being very young about this whole thing.  You’re not doing this because you feel you have to, are you?”  Kurt holds his hand out and admires it with the ring on.

“Okay, Hummel.  No need to be offensive… you know I’ve wanted to marry you since I met you, basically.  When do you want to get engaged?”

Kurt grins into Blaine’s shoulder and nips lightly.  “Mmmm, aren’t we already?”

“No!  Gimme that thing back.”

Kurt takes it off and puts it in Blaine’s pocket.  He’s still wearing his suit from the funeral and he must admit that it actually sort of looks better wrinkled and sweaty than it did when it was crisp this morning.  

“I feel naked.”

“Want you naked.”

“I really love how it feels there, you know.”

“Uh huh.  My ring or your cock?”

Kurt rolls his eyes and sighs.  “So, propose as soon as possible, please.”

“That can be arranged.”  Blaine grins and lets Kurt turn him around so they’re facing each other.  “When do you want to be married?”

“A year or a year and a half after the engagement?  Are we going to have a real wedding?”

“Kurt!  Of course, we’re going to have a real wedding.  Are you nuts?  I need to show you off to every single person we know.”

“Just making sure that’s what you want!”  Kurt laughs.  “It would have been awkward if I started putting together details and you thought we were going to city hall.”

“We already talked about this when I offered to drive us to Vegas, remember?  What about kids?”

“Definitely.  And I don’t want to be too old before we have them, which means like in the next few years or as soon as possible.  Is any of this scaring you?”

“No... I mean, not really.”  Blaine shrugs and looks at him.  “I know it sounds really stupid, but I’m kinda scared of being a dad.  Not scared, maybe nervous.  Uneasy over whether or not I’d be a good one.  I still want to, but I’m so nervous that I’m going to fuck up their lives.  I’m scared of raising them and screwing it all up.”

“If the way you love me is any indication, you’re going to be great at it.  You could never be him, as cliché as _that_ sounds.”  Kurt kisses the tip of his nose and smiles.  “Our babies are going to be so lucky, you know that right?  Half of the battle is having two parents who are hopelessly in love.”

“If I know anything, I know I love you hopelessly.  Adoption or surrogate?” 

“I have no idea.  What’s better?”

“Mmmm.”

“Blaine, where are we going to raise these children?”

“How many children are we talking about?”

“Two?  Three?”

Blaine raises an eyebrow and smirks wildly at his beautiful, pretty Kurt.  He rolls up on top of him and licks at his lips.  “We should start practicing.”

“We don’t have the necessary parts to practice, B.”  Kurt throws his head back and Blaine is grateful for the open access to his neck.  “Missed you today.”

“All six hours?”  Blaine sucks hard at Kurt’s pale neck, marking him as his for the world to see.  “Straight couples have to practice by having loads of sex and that is exactly what I recommend we do, too.  Can we do that, Kurt?”  Blaine leans back with bright, wide eyes to look back at Kurt.

“Might as well get the full experience.  Surrogate, then?”

“Yeah, I want a little Kurt.”

“But I want a little Blaine!”

“You already have a little Blaine.”

“Praise Jesus, I sure do.  Tell me you’re talking about your cock.”

“What?  Pretty, I’m _petite_.  You’re a very dirty old man.”

“Oh my God.”  Kurt laughs and rolls his eyes.  “Come on, let’s practice.”

Blaine attaches his lips to Kurt’s neck again, kissing the most sensitive spot, and leaves it to trail down his body, opening a button and then kissing the skin underneath until the entirety of his shirt is flopping and open, curled around his suit jacket.  Kurt bends his body upward, supporting Blaine by holding his back until he’s curved up too.  Blaine takes it upon himself to remove Kurt’s jacket and shirt and then throws his clothes on the floor beside the bed.  He gets up and locks the door then turns back to see Kurt stripping himself of any piece of cloth still attached to his body.  Blaine smiles as he watches him, unbuttoning his own pants on the way back to the bed.  

“Condoms, pretty.”  He swallows.  “We still have some, right?”

“Unprotected sex is the only kind of practice straight couples get if they want a child.”

“Like babies, HIV takes up to nine months to show symptoms.  Come on, are they still in the bathroom?”

“Yeah, we need more before next time though.  I can’t wait until Oliver and all of San Francisco is a thing we don’t have to think about anymore.”

“I think you just called me a whore, but I’ll let it slide this time.”  Blaine kisses him hard and scurries to the bathroom, returning with a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube.

“Know what else slides, B?”

“My God.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me like you’re trying to make a baby.  Please.”  Kurt rolls his eyes and laughs when Blaine fist pumps.  “How do you want me?”

“Wanna see your face.”

Kurt immediately situates a pillow under his body.  Blaine straddles his groin and rubs for the sake of friction.  Kurt’s hands fly to curve around Blaine’s hipbones and he holds on.  It all feels so natural, like they’ve been doing this forever, and it’s then that Blaine realizes that they have.  It’s been nearly seven years with a slight hiccup in the middle and now, for the rest of his life, this is it.  It blows his mind how he’s entirely content with that and only because it’s Kurt.  He’d been expecting to miss the different sexual partners and styles every night but he finds that, since none of them compare to Kurt, all is right in his monogamous world.

He twists Kurt forcefully at the hips so his legs are stretched and hanging off the bed, and so he has a full view of that perfect, plumped ass that still, at thirty-five years old, does not jiggle.  Kurt’s hands are stroking Blaine’s upper thigh as Blaine leans forward and inserts two fingers graciously, slowly, crooked into Kurt’s ass with a specific goal to find his spot straight away.  He does, naturally, and Kurt’s low-pitched mewl of a sound is all the proof Blaine needs that it’s okay.

“My God, Blaine.  More.”

“Yeah?”  

Blaine’s sensitive skin on his inner thigh is pinched to prove seriousness and he sees to it that the third finger is well within as soon as possible.  He probes at Kurt’s prostate until he’s sweating, and it’s all he can do not to come just at the sight of his fingers disappearing time and time again.  Kurt’s finally ready for the next step so Blaine wraps his cock in a condom, making sure it fits properly.  He lubes it up and lines up with Kurt’s opening.  “Okay?”

“Love you.”

“Good.  I love you.”  Blaine bends so he’s lying on top of Kurt and, with their mouths attached, he thrusts inside until he can go no more.  Kurt lets out a breathy gasp and then holds his breath, thanks to the intrusion, and Blaine makes it a point to hold as still as possible until Kurt says he can move.  He tries to ignore the throb running through his entire body, and the basic survival type of need that has him holding every single thrust back until all is well.  

Kurt opens his mouth wider into Blaine’s and whispers, “please,” as though Blaine is positively torturing him by not making any movements.  

**xK &Bx**

It feels like a year, but the begging finally starts and Blaine starts to move.

Kurt is undoubtedly baffled how it all can feel so refreshing and new, as though he’s never done this with Blaine before in his life, when the reality is that they’ve done it hundreds or maybe even thousands of times before.  As Blaine finds the flow – thrust, one Mississippi, two Mississippi, pull out, thrust, one Mississippi, two Mississippi, pull out – Kurt pictures what their wedding will look like, what flowers they can have as centerpieces, where they’ll go on their honeymoon.  He envisions a hut on top of crystal water somewhere in the South Pacific that they have to row a kayak to and from, a thoroughly debouched suite with white and tan linens thrown about, the sea salt heavy in the air mixed with the smell of Blaine’s natural perfume Kurt finds, without fail, in the crook of his neck. 

He’s brought back to the moment by the sound Blaine makes above him as he holds onto Kurt’s hair and pulls, subsequently pressing this experience into the category of rough sex.  He goes harder and faster and harder yet; Kurt knows how turned on Blaine gets while fucking him thoroughly, completely, to the point of exhaustion.  

“God, Kurt.  You’re so tight.”

And with that, Blaine is up and off of him, bouncing across the room and rummaging through his suitcase.  Kurt bends forward to watch him, cock red and leaking, absolutely about to burst.  

“What the hell are you doing?  Get back here!”  

Blaine holds up a silicon vibrator and waves it in the air at Kurt, turning it on with a flick of a switch and a smirk.  Kurt watches the tiny movement and hears the buzz and he thinks this might be heaven. 

“Want this in you with me.”

Kurt’s brain short circuits.  He doesn’t even know what to think, let alone how to put it into words.  His stare back at Blaine must be inhumanly wanton because Blaine laughs before he inserts the vibrator between his teeth and gets back up.  He kneels between Kurt’s legs again and takes the vibrator in his hands.  

“You see, you put the thing that kills you in between your teeth…” Kurt laughs at his own joke.  “It’s a metaphor, Blaine.”

Blaine clearly doesn’t understand the words of John Green.  “Uhh, we don’t have to, I just thought…” Blaine swallows.  “I think I might have a size kink, Kurt.  Wanna watch you stretch to the max and conform to the shape you need to.  For me?”

Kurt nods and writhes in an attempt to get closer to Blaine.  

“Mmmm, okay.  Tell me if you want me to stop.”  Blaine pushes his own cock in again and bottoms out.  Kurt can’t help but moan, his eyes wide and bulging out of his head only under the anticipation of what’s still to come.

“How is… oh God, more, Blaine.  Please.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Blaine, Blaine, Blaine_ … fill me.”

Blaine rubs the vibrator, still buzzing, around the rim of Kurt’s asshole then holds it still against the top.  He pushes through until it’s inserted inside, lying comfortably atop Blaine’s cock deep inside.  The hum against Kurt’s walls get more and more intense each second that goes by, and he faintly tries to forget that Blaine is feeling the same sensation at exactly the same time.  They’re playing with the very same toy and it might make Kurt’s heart stop with just the intimacy of it all.  

“Oh… my God, fuck, shit.  You kinky motherfucker… shit, Blaine!”  He feels himself getting louder; he knows his parents are downstairs and Cooper is somewhere but he has officially run out of fucks to give.  He sings out a moan and his legs start to shake uncontrollably.  “Fuck me, Blaine!  Ahhh… shit, so close.”

Blaine pulls only his cock out and then slams it back in with so much force that the vibrator moves around in the cave they’ve created inside Kurt.  One of Blaine’s hands holds the vibrator inside and the other sneaks up to squeeze Kurt in all the right places.  

As soon as Blaine touches Kurt’s cock, he explodes, followed quickly by Blaine.  Kurt thanks his lucky stars for Blaine having enough brainpower to pull both him and the vibrator out of Kurt before it becomes unbearable.

Blaine rolls off of Kurt and kisses his temple, snuggling up to his side.  “Are you okay?”

Kurt is still breathing heavy but turns his head to look at Blaine, whose face is too close to his at this angle.  “Holy fucking shit, I’m seeing stars.”

“Thoroughly fucked, my pretty boy.”

“Where did you even learn… don’t answer that.”

“Mmmm.”  Blaine kisses Kurt’s temple for the second time.  “Not one of them, I promise.  I bought this baby with you in mind.”

“If it was physically possible, I’d so be pregnant right now.  Jesus.”

Blaine looks at Kurt seriously then bursts out laughing.  “God, I love you so much.”

“Me too, honey.”  Kurt rolls over onto his back again to stare at the ceiling.  

Kurt runs through what just happened – the filthiest, dirtiest, kinkiest sex they’ve ever had, and of course now is the perfect moment.  He blushes slightly at the cheekbone and looks at Blaine, also undoubtedly blushing at the thought of what they just experienced.

The roller coaster they’ve been riding for upwards of six years now has finally halted to a stop, throwing them off disheveled but together, directly into a metaphorical field of lilacs they’d always deserved.   It feels good to be launched off of a device that was previously trying to ruin them.  These are the happy times.  This is finally forever.  Disgustingly filthy sex and all.

Basking in the afterglow has always been Kurt’s favorite pastime with Blaine, and it turns out that it still is, undoubtedly.  He can’t get enough of it; every touch of the fingertip, every swirl of the stomach hits home harder than the time before and he finds himself silently flailing on the inside, hopeful that _his boyfriend_ isn’t aware of what’s happening internally.  This is finally it; all the build up and heartbreak was officially worth it to see Blaine’s sated smile on his lips as he feels lightly across his chest.  Kurt shifts to lean closer into Blaine’s scent and carries his head up and into the crook of his neck.  He cards his fingertips through Blaine’s hair, gently massaging his crown and smiling all the while.  These are the happy times.  This is finally forever.  

**xK &Bx**

Blaine’s fingers are rubbing at the hole between Kurt’s collarbone, at a bruise that was placed delicately by his mouth at the beginning of the rendezvous.  He studies it, as if it’s changing color right before his eyes, and sighs as he places his lips around the mark again.  This time it’s gentle, not frantic, and Kurt squirms a bit from the sensitivity of the feeling.  

Blaine shifts to sit up halfway, mostly to see Kurt’s clear, wide eyes staring back at him.  They smile an unspoken promise to never talk about the vibrator outside of the bedroom. Kurt holds his pinkie out and Blaine locks his together. Blaine knows exactly what that means.  It means forever.

Blaine rests his head on Kurt’s shoulder and inhales the scent.  They remain silent for as long as it takes for Blaine to put his words together.  He’s planning a speech and he hopes Kurt is in sync with the moment as he always is.  Kurt would wait until the end of time, if that were what it took to hear Blaine say something of substance, and Blaine prays this is as important as he hopes.

**xK &Bx**

“ _Kurt_.”  He says it like a prayer, like an epilogue to the greatest love story ever written.  He says it with conviction, as if the only person he ever believes in is Kurt.  It’s like it’s always ever been Kurt; mind, body, soul, and Kurt.  

Kurt can identify with this feeling; it has always been Blaine, after all.

As a response, Kurt places all of his love through his mouth atop Blaine’s curls, and shakes out his exhale, air jumping down each notch of his lungs.

They conjoin again horizontally, Blaine’s head back to Kurt’s collarbone; the spot is reserved only for him.

“So, you know how I’m taking Human Anatomy as my elective this semester?”  Blaine says, with furrowed brows and excessive blinking.  

“We don’t really talk about school, baby.”

“Well, whatever.  So I’m taking Human Anatomy-”

“As an elective this semester.”  Kurt smiles and raises an eyebrow.  It’s a challenge; it’s comfort.

Blaine smirks and rests his chin on Kurt’s chest.  They lock their lines of vision; they’ll never let go again.

“Right, so we were learning about organs last week.  The heart is so insane, Kurt.”

“I’m aware.”  He hopes Blaine can sense that he means that so much more profoundly than Blaine is probably speaking.  “Why is the heart so crazy, B?”  Kurt slips his hand between them and places the palm of his hand over Blaine’s heart, applying pressure and feeling the pattern of the thump.  It seems to speed up at the touch and Kurt can only smile.  All of this would be positively overwhelming if he lets it be, so he tries not to think about the way Blaine makes him feel.

“There are these little… muscles like within the walls of the heart holding each section together, you know?  They help it contract and whatever, you know how blood’s central place to pump is the heart?  My professor described it as the gas station that each blood cell goes through to refuel itself enough to pump through the body again or something.”

“Mmmm.  That’s a good way to put it.”  Kurt’s still unsure why they’re talking about blood flowing through hearts, but he trusts that Blaine will have a point sooner than later.   

“She was telling us that there are known cases of people going through super traumatic events… break-ups, loss of a loved one, things like that?  Where the person can’t handle the distress from those events and those little tendons sever or fray because the heart is beating so out of control because of the trauma and when they sever, you can actually die of a broken heart.  And that’s why sometimes your heart physically hurts when you go through certain shit, because your tendons inside the muscle are all overworking themselves.”

Kurt’s continues to absently pet Blaine’s back softly, drawing tiny, circular designs without thinking at all.  He opts to retrace several figure eights across his skin now, the universal symbol for _eternity_.  “Is that so?”

“Yeah, and fuck Kurt, it’s the coolest thing but so depressing because I think one of my heartstrings, that’s my professor’s nickname for them, was in the process of tearing when I walked away from you that one time because I physically felt it, and I guess I just mean that I’m not even sure if it’s relevant anymore, but I am so sorry for leaving you like that and breaking both of our heart...strings.  Yeah.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, honey.  We are so far past that.  No regrets…”

“Just love.”  Blaine grins.

“Also, no Katy Perry.”  There’s a beat where Kurt swears he sees said heartstrings inside Blaine tearing again at just the irrational suggestion.

“I also want to say that I’m really excited that the break-up didn’t totally tear us apart, because I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life mending it all back together for the both of us.  Because I’m alive and well and very much with you again.”

Kurt admires Blaine’s shining eyeballs, glistening against his own.  His mouth twitches upwards and Kurt plants a kiss squarely on his lips.  He pulls off with a _muah_ and nods.  “We are so together.”  Kurt sighs.  “I think the most excellent part about injured heartstrings is that every person only has that one true love who is able to reconstruct them as he sees fit.  Like the little ants that can hold fifty times their weight of shit on their shoulders?  That’s us.  If you love someone, let it go.  If he finds his way back to you, he was yours all along.”

“Yeah.”  Then, “That’s the coolest thing ever.  Soulmates.  Knowing my heart only ticks for you.”  There’s a beat.  Blaine must be thinking how to word what comes out of his mouth next.  Kurt waits.  “My bruised heartstrings are mended back to health, you know.”

“As are mine, my love.”

“Hey.  Uh, Kurt?”  Blaine sits up completely and tries to cover at least his softening cock with the covers, draping diagonally across the corner of the mattress.

“Yeah, Blaine.”  Kurt’s eyes are closed, but he smiles in the general direction of Blaine.

“Look at me.”

“What?”  Kurt opens his eyes and finds Blaine, once again rummaging through something, this time his pants.  He finds what he’s looking for after much effort and turns around, standing up completely naked and softening.  He fiddles with the ring, turning it over and over between his hands.

“Will you, um… will you marry me, pretty boy?”


	20. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

… And they lived happily ever after.

Sure, there were some bumps in the road:  finding enough clothes to slip into so they could spread the awesome news of an official proposal to anyone who would listen, groomzilla times two during the planning stages, and finally Blaine going missing after his bachelor party with Santana.  In Vegas.  For three days.

All of that is gravy though, because they’ve finally made it to the day they’ve been working toward since the Lima Bean and broken ribs and the misery of New York and two full years of not quite making it back to each other.

It’s September twelfth twenty-twenty, and not a cloud is in the sky.  Kurt is standing in the shade, right outside of any sunshine that could color his skin and ruin his day.  He looks out into the city they’ve made their own together.  The Golden Gate is brightly colored with the sun, waves crashing into it below.  It’s a picture-perfect location for a small, intimate wedding and the impeccable depiction of his relationship with Blaine:  a wedding at the foundation of a bridge, the strongest it’s ever been.  He smiles and brushes off each of his arms of any remaining lint and cracks his neck to both sides.  He’s ready.

“You got this, lover boy?”

Kurt turns around and grins at Santana.  She looks absolutely stunning in a beige lace bridesmaid dress and crystallized stilettos.  She’s the epitome of beauty today and Kurt gasps at just the sight.

“I’m fine.  How’s B?”

“Not so great.”  Santana is radiant.  “He was talking about how he might die from nerves or some shit.  He wasn’t making any sense.”

Kurt laughs and shrugs.  “He’s not going to die.  What a drama queen.”

“Ready for the reveal?”

“Fuck, San.  This is it.”  Kurt blinks.  “Go get him!”

“I love you, Lady.”  Santana kisses his cheek.  

“I love you too, honey.  More than words.”

They hug and uncharacteristically peck on the lips.  They love each other and this friendship is forever.

The photographer’s assistant comes over and leads him up a hill and behind a tree.  He closes his eyes tight for good measure and his heart is beating erratically out of his chest.  He says a quick prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in and holds his breath as he hears the crunch of footsteps behind him, and as he feels Blaine’s back up against his.

**xK &Bx**

There’s no way he can fucking do this.  Blaine is going to trip down the hill toward the ledge and then he’s going to plummet to his death by way of the San Francisco Bay.  He has a clear view of each guest’s arrival, which is making him even more nervous because the number he’s counting in his head just surpassed fifty.  There are fifty witnesses here to watch Blaine make a complete fool of himself when he tumbles, like a human somersault, straight into disgustingly freezing water.  Like, colder than the Titanic.  Or whatever.  He can’t do this.

“Hey, loser.  You ready?”  

Jimmy crosses his arms across his chest then immediately unfolds them as if he forgot he was dressed in Armani and Italian linen appears to wrinkle.  A lot.  

Blaine stares at him with wide eyes.  “No.  This is the most terrifying moment of my life, Jim!  What the fuck am I doing?”

“You’ll be fine.  Santana told me to get you for the reveal picture or whatever.”

“Tell Kurt I can’t do this.”

“No way, man.  You know I’d get shot.  Come on… pictures.”  Blaine flinches when Jimmy slaps his back as hard as ever and pushes him up toward the hill.  He focuses quickly on the back of Kurt’s head, the muscles stretching across his back in his tuxedo, the bulge of his perfect ass in his tailored-to-the-centimeter pants, and somehow all the butterflies in his stomach float away and everything is alright.  Kurt, his very soon-to-be husband, is about to see him for the first time in a day and a half _and_ on their wedding day, no less.  _Their wedding day_.  Blaine is going to be fine.  

He turns and situates himself up against Kurt’s back and exhales for seven long seconds.  He slouches his shoulders, arches his back, swallows the saliva pooling on his tongue.  Just Kurt’s presence calms him; just Kurt’s presence ignites a fire.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Good day, Mister Pretty.”

“Mister pretty?  As in the husband of pretty?”  Blaine laughs and jiggles his shoulders like a cartoon character.  His eyes, he knows, are squinty and happy.  There’s no place he’d rather be.

“As in the husband of pretty.”  Kurt giggles.  “Are you okay?”

“I am now.  Are you… okay?”

“I am.  Do you want to see me?”

“I do.”

“Blaine… you can’t say-” The small crowd watching them – Carole, Burt, Cooper, Jimmy, Steve, Santana, and Willa – abrupt in laughter.

Blaine interrupts.  “Yes, Kurt.  I want to see you now.”

The photographer chimes in.  “On the count of three, then, gentlemen.”  Blaine turns his head to see the flashes start.  “Three…”

“Two…”  Kurt says.

“One.”  Blaine responds and turns around in the same millisecond as Kurt.  

Blaine grins sheepishly and then looks down at his feet as he blushes because Kurt is staring sexual positions directly into his eyes.  

“Blaine Devon, you look…”

Blaine gazes into Kurt’s storm of slate and may actually witness a collection of greys and blues swirling around his irises.  There are no words in Blaine’s vocabulary to correctly describe the way he feels when he looks at Kurt in this moment.  He allows his jaw to drop, slacked and wanton.  He leans in.

“Uh, uh.”  Kurt leans back and puts his pointer finger to Blaine’s lip.  “Not until we are husbands.”  He checks him out openly.  “You are ravishing.  Stunning.  The most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

“There are no mirrors in Kurt Hummel-Anderson’s world.”

“Vomit on my wedding day?  I prefer not to, thanks.”

Blaine laughs, giggles, cackles in delight.  They stare at each other and nod.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Everyone seems to take their places according to yesterday’s rehearsal.  Kurt steps up to find his place but Santana grabs at his arm.  Blaine watches the exchange and the look Kurt gives her, as if she’s stopping him from marrying the love of his life.  

“Wait, you guys.  I just… I have a wedding present for you two that I don’t want to get lost in the shuffle and I think now is a perfect time to give it to you.  Could you just… hang back with me a second?”  Santana can’t look into their eyes and she’s jittering with nerves, clearly.  “Please.”

“Santana?”  Blaine tilts his head and looks at Kurt for help.

“Um, honey.  We’re kind of on a schedule here.  Can we do this after?”

“Now is really the right time for this, I swear.”

Kurt and Blaine exchange a look and follow Santana away from the crowd for a few steps.

“So you know that I love you both like brothers and without you I’d be-”

“Stripper.”

“Right so, um.”  She pulls a small rectangle-shaped box out from between her boobs.  “I really, really love you guys more than I ever thought possible and I just really need you to have this before you get married.”  Santana sighs.  “Just open it before I have a heart attack.”

Blaine takes it from her and looks at Kurt.  He opens it to reveal a… _what the fuck is this?_

“Honestly, Lopez.  What the fuck is this and why would you ever-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re…”

Kurt gasps and starts jumping up and down with tears in his eyes and a fist in his mouth.  It takes Blaine a full thirty seconds to honestly remember that Santana is a lesbian and that they’ve inserted his sperm regularly for a few months now, in hopes of Santana becoming their surrogate.  

“Oh my God.  _Oh my God_!  Kurt!  _Pretty_.  Holy shit.”

“Daddies, B.  We’re going to be daddies!”

“Oh my fuck.  What the shit?  _Kurt_.”

“I love you so much!”  

Blaine nearly falls backwards by the tackle Kurt’s capable of, forcing him to also jump up and down.

“I love you, Blaine.  I love you so much.”  Kurt applies hard pressure to Blaine’s lips then snatches Santana’s face between his hands and kisses her lips too.  “I love you both so much, holy shit.  We’re going to be daddies!”

“I get that, I totally do.  But don’t you guys want to be married daddies?  Your guests are kinda waiting.”  Santana smirks and bites her lip.

Blaine laughs and hugs her tight, twirling her in the air.  “Thank you, San.  Who knew you’d be my baby mama when you handed me that map?”  He puts her down.  “I owe you my life, baby.  I love you so much.”

“I really don’t want to be carrying your bastard child, though.  So if you could please hurry up and put a ring on it?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Come on, pretty.  We have to go get married.”  Blaine holds out his hand and Kurt takes it, their fingers quickly and quietly becoming tangled in each other.  “Ready?”

“Ready!”


End file.
